Ch 17 – Working Girls (1)

Angela stuck her hands into the bucket of talcum powder and rubbed them together methodically. Then, careful not to get any of the white substance on her dark-blue sequined leotard, she positioned herself at the front edge of the little platform and waited for the trapeze to swing towards her.

The roar of the crowd below was deafening, even up here. It was funny, she knew that 500 feet was very, very high, but she wasn't scared. She felt confident in her abilities, and she knew that she looked great.

The painted-on stars in the sky of the circus tent were smiling down on her, and from somewhere among them, the trapeze came flying. She reached out and grabbed on with one hand. Then she pulled the bar towards herself, bent her knees, transferred her other hand, and with one powerful leap catapulted herself forward, into the abyss.

The crowd cheered, and Angela felt lighter than she had in years. Flying. It was the best feeling. Second only to ... well.

When the trapeze was on its second swing towards the middle, she tightened the muscles in her core and flung her body around the bar in a perfect backswing. Even though she hadn't been to the gym in ages! It was nothing short of a miracle.

She sailed through the tent and in the distance, saw her partner getting ready for their act. Now that was weird. He looked like Tony! But Tony wasn't a trapeze artist, was he? No matter, he seemed to know what he was doing, and he looked so handsome in his tight gymnastics suit.

Angela gathered momentum by whipping her legs back and forth before she hugged her knees to her chest and hooked the backs of her knees over the trapeze. Then she let go of the bar and let her upper body slowly descend.

Hanging by the backs of her knees, she arched her spine and looked up. It felt completely effortless. Tony came flying towards her, and then he swung away again. The timing seemed right.

Then he came near her again, and they looked at each other, checking to make sure they were both ready.

The third time, Tony smiled. This was their sign. With her arms outstretched for him to grab on to, she awaited his fourth approach.

When he was almost at the point closest to her, he let go and launched himself into the air. One, two, three somersaults. The crowd gasped. Tony reached for her hands, the tips of his fingers were right there.

But then Angela caught his eye, and something wasn't right. A spark of uncertainty. Doubt. Could they do this? Were they ready?

Time slowed to a crawl as she watched Tony retract his hands. It was more than a near miss. It was a decision. It was a refusal.

People in the audience screamed. Angela looked down.

There was no net. Why was there no net? They were 500 feet in the air. Well, she was. Tony was already far away.

ooooooooo

"No!"

Angela woke up with start, drenched in sweat, her heart hammering in her chest, breath going fast.

She was disoriented for a moment and blindly felt for the light switch. When the little light on her nightstand came on, she sat up in bed and looked around the room. It was 3:45 a.m.

A nightmare. It had been a nightmare. She wasn't on a trapeze, and Tony wasn't plummeting to his death. For all she knew, he was sound asleep in his room right across the hallway.

How she wished he could be here with her instead. The sheets had been changed twice since their last night together, the bed didn't even smell like him anymore.

She forced herself to breathe slowly, but her hands just wouldn't stop shaking.

Had she screamed? She was almost sure. With one trembling hand clasped over her mouth, Angela listened for steps or voices in the hallway. Nothing. Hopefully nobody would come to check on her.

She didn't think that she could stand another worried glance from Tony. Not before tomorrow morning, when he would inevitably greet her in the kitchen with a silent question in his eyes. 'Did you get it?'

And she would likely have to answer with another microscopic shake of her head. 'No.' Just like yesterday, and on Saturday, and on Friday. As if her period could only start in the morning. But she knew that he meant well.

Last night in her study, he had asked her outright, his brows slanted with concern, but his hand big and warm and comforting on her back.

"What do you want to do?"

She swallowed, suddenly overwhelmed with the reality of it all.

It had been a mistake to tell him when exactly she was expecting her period, but the words had just slipped out, thanks to her own jangled nerves. It was getting to her, trying not to think about it. Being careful not to slip up around the kids and her mother. Missing his kisses and his embrace as soon as they left the privacy of her study.

"It's only been two days, Tony," she said. "That's still … not terribly late. Actually, it's quite possible that this all stress-related. You said it yourself, a watched pot never boils. I feel like I'm going to start any day now." She really did, like a spring wound too tight, desperately waiting for release.

Tony nodded, but Angela could tell that he wasn't satisfied. "What if you don't?" he asked gently and let his fingers rub a pattern on her lower back, exactly where the vague, nagging ache kept flaring up.

She took his other hand in hers and opened it, tracing the lines and calluses in his palm.

"If I don't get it by Friday, I'll take a test. Okay? You're supposed to wait until you're at least three days late, anyway. Better five. And I feel like we should focus on getting through this week first. You have finals, I have Sam at the office, and the Christmas party, and the year-end review of accounts. We're hardly going to have time to breathe. Let alone-" she interrupted herself.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Tony nodded again, still reluctant. But then he closed his hand around her fingers and drew her into a hug with his other arm.

"Thank you," Angela said and put her head on his shoulder.

Part of her did want to take a test now, even though it was probably too early for conclusive results. But another, more vocal part wanted to continue to live in this merciful in-between state where nothing was certain, just for a few more days.

During her first year at Yale, Angela had had a roommate named Amy. Amy was a physics major. A prodigy, actually, who became a full professor at Caltech before she was even 30.

One night while they were waiting for their face masks to dry, Amy had told her about Schrödinger's Cat: The poor thing was locked in a box, and as long as the box remained unopened, one couldn't be sure whether the cat was dead or alive in there. Thus, the cat was considered to be both dead and alive at the same time, until somebody opened the box, and the truth came out. This scenario sounded terrible for the cat, of course, but aside from that, Angela had always found it fascinating.

As long as they didn't know for sure, there was nothing to get upset about. Tony could take his exams, and she could white-knuckle it through this week.

Her chattering teeth brought Angela back to the here and now. She scrambled out of bed and pulled off her sweat-soaked nightgown on the way to the bathroom.

Then she grabbed her bathrobe off the hook by the door and wrapped herself in its soft depths before getting back into bed, this time on the other side. Tony's side. The pillow was cool and dry against her cheek, she felt warm and safe in her robe, and after a few minutes of focused, deep breathing, she managed to fall back asleep.

ooooooooo

"Good morning."

When Angela came into the kitchen, Jonathan and Sam were already seated at the table, eating eggs.

"Morning, Angela."

Tony stood over by the stove and threw her the look she had been expecting. She gave him her answer, and he took it with the same mildly troubled, yet loving expression as on the days before.

Angela pulled out her chair and joined the kids at the table. "Sam, don't you look lovely this morning!" she praised Samantha's outfit to distract all of them from the silent exchange that had just taken place.

"You really think so?" Sam asked, visibly pleased, looking down at herself. "This blouse isn't too much?"

"It's perfect for a working girl in Manhattan." Angela patted Samantha's shoulder.

"She didn't get all dressed up just for your office. She's going to ask to stay in the City later so she can go on a date with Eeeeric," Jonathan snickered.

Sam glared at him. "You little slime-"

"What!?" Of course, Tony was alarmed at the mention of a boy. "Who's Eric?" he asked as he walked over to pour Angela her coffee. Her customary glass of juice was already on the table in front of her.

"Isn't that the name of Bonnie's brother's friend who went skiing with you?" Angela asked after her first sip of juice.

"Yes," Sam said, as if through clenched teeth. "Bonnie told him that I will be working in your office this week and he called and asked if I wanted to hang out after work sometime. His family lives near the Park."

"Sam likes him," Jonathan said with a broad grin on his face.

"Jonathan!" Sam shrieked. "No, I don't."

"You like him?" Tony whined, and Angela cringed inwardly. This was just what Tony needed, another thing to worry about.

"She told Bonnie on the phone!"

"Jonathan, what did we say about listening in on other people's phone calls?"

"It was an accident, Mom."

"I'll show you an accident!" Sam was about to jump out of her chair and lunge at Jonathan across the table, but Tony put his hand on her shoulder from behind and stopped her just in time.

In anticipation of her attack, Jonathan had leapt out of his chair, tipping it over in the process. He was already halfway to the kitchen door when Tony's voice thundered through the room.

"Stop it! Both of you!"

"But Dad-"

"Tony! Mom! I didn't do-"

Angela winced. The raised voices were like nails on a chalkboard to her. She tightened her hold on her juice glass and coffee mug, trying to keep her composure.

"It's Monday morning. We all have a big week ahead of us, and we're not going to go crazy now!" Tony ordered. "Jonathan, off to school. Samantha, off to work. We'll talk about this tonight."

"All of it," Angela added with a stern look at Jonathan, who finally seemed somewhat remorseful. But probably less because of what he had done, and more because of the repercussions it would have. "This isn't over, young man. Eavesdropping is not an attractive habit."

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Jonathan tried one last time.

"Yeah, right!" Sam spat.

Before the kids could go a full second round and before Tony could intervene again, the back door opened and in came Mona. Angela exhaled in relief. If anybody could diffuse this situation, it was her mother.

"What's going on here?" Mona asked good-naturedly. "I heard your screaming all the way across the driveway. Did your gerbil get loose again?" She looked at Jonathan, who was righting his chair as she spoke.

"We were all just having a moment," Tony said, calmer now. "But it's over. Isn't it?" He shot warning glances at Sam and Jonathan before his gaze softened as it landed on Angela.

The kids nodded, and Angela lifted her coffee mug to her lips for a couple of fortifying sips. The coffee tasted thinner than normal, and she didn't have to guess why that was.

"I see. Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time," Mona said, and Angela was sure that she detected an undertone.

"What do you mean, Mother?" she asked, even though she should have known better than to give Mona an opening like that.

Mona looked at her sagely. "Speaking as someone with a degree in counseling: A family is a system, dear. Even an unusual one like this. Energies flow." She made a whirling gesture. "Tension in one part of the system doesn't stay there. It spreads. Until one day … it erupts." Mona finished with a bright, innocent smile, but Angela recognized the provocative glint in her eyes.

Momentarily, everybody in the room was silent, contemplating Mona's words.

Angela didn't dare look at Tony. There was an indeterminate emotion bubbling in her stomach, or maybe it was her choice of breakfast finally catching up with her.

For two weeks, her mother had held her peace. It had been too good to last. But why, oh why, did she have to pick today to start poking the bear?

"Don't you ladies have a train to catch?" Tony asked finally, saving them from more Psych 101. "You don't want to be late on your first day, Samantha."

"Tony is right," Angela said. "Today is going to be busy, so let's go."

ooooooooo

Tony dropped them off at the station, and they wished him good luck for his first final this afternoon. History, the least of his worries, as he had explained to Angela on Sunday night.

But she could tell from the set of his jaw that he was nervous, and it took Angela everything not to lean over to him in the driver's seat for a good-luck kiss. Not that she thought he needed it – he had studied during every free minute these past few weeks. She had all the confidence in the world in him and had already told him as much when they were alone.

The train was crowded, and they didn't find three seats close together, for which Angela was grateful because it rendered Mona unable to further investigate the matter of this morning's screaming match and any related energies or tensions in the Bower/Micelli home.

Glad to have a moment's peace, Angela closed her eyes for a couple of minutes. Her sleep during the second half of the night had been far from restful with fragments of her trapeze act nightmare flitting through her subconscious.

Once the three of them arrived at the Agency, Angela finally began to feel more in control again. She asked Mona to make the rounds with Sam and to explain to her how their files were organized. Then she retreated to her office to read through her mail and make a couple of phone calls.

Her relief was short-lived, however, because it wasn't even 11 a.m. when Jack knocked on her door. He looked at her with glassy eyes, gingerly holding his cheeks. "Angela, I twied to fuff it out, but I can't," he mumbled. "I fink I'm fick."

They had a meeting with the Guacamunchies people this afternoon, but he was clearly unwell and probably running a fever, so she sent him home.

Even as she wished Jack a speedy recovery and told him not to worry about the meeting, Angela could feel the muscles in her neck and shoulders beginning to tense up.

She had left Jack mostly in charge of the Guacamunchies account ever since he had joined the Agency. He handled their marketing managers with ease, and Angela herself only took part in meetings or calls when other executives were present and high-level decisions had to be made. The rest of the time, Jack and Tim, a talented account manager, were responsible.

Thankfully, today's meeting was going to be fairly run-of-the-mill. Three people – two management, one executive – were in town to sign off on the final production drafts for print and radio ads and storyboards for a TV commercial that was supposed to start airing after New Year's. They had received advance copies of everything via messenger, and if they hadn't happened to be in New York on other business, a conference phone call would have more than sufficed.

But they were here, and they would show up at the Bower Agency at 4:00 p.m., expecting someone to walk them through the campaign materials. In the context of the meeting, Tim's role was too junior, so Angela had to step in. Angela, who had been so wrapped up in her own issues these past few weeks that she hadn't paid a lot of attention to the details of this campaign.

In between three or four other meetings, she would have to skim the strategy documents, re-familiarize herself with the budget, and take a good look at the various drafts and proofs.

With a weary sigh, Angela pressed the button on her intercom. "Mother? Could you send Sam in here, please?" At least they had and additional pair of hands and eyes on deck this week.

Seconds later, Sam walked in, her cheeks pink with anticipation. "What can I do for you, Angela?"

Angela took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sam, honey, there was a change of plans for the Guacamunchies meeting at four today. Jack is out sick, and I'm taking over. I need you to go to his office and get all the materials: documents, drafts, proofs, budgets. Ask Tim from Accounts and Jack's secretary Sheila to tell you where to find everything. Until 12:30, can you do that?"

"Of course," Sam beamed. "I'm happy to help."