A/N: Mature T rating here (is that even a thing?) … You have been warned!
Ch 23 - Working Girls (6)
On Wednesday morning, Angela woke up before the alarm again, again with Tony's arm around her, and again with a full bladder. She managed to slip out of bed without waking him, or so she thought. When she came back from the bathroom, his eyes were open.
"Good morning," he whispered.
"Did I wake you?" she whispered back as she climbed into bed, glad to return into his embrace.
"I think missing you was what woke me up."
She swatted his bicep. "I was only gone for a minute."
"Bad enough." He leaned in and touched his lips against her forehead.
It felt so good to sleep in the same bed and to wake up together. Angela truly couldn't imagine giving it up again. With a sigh, she said, "We have to talk to the kids."
"Yeah," he agreed. "How about I come to the City tonight and pick you up at the Agency? We'll say we're going Christmas shopping. We've been wanting to do that anyway. Then we'll have some time to make a plan."
"Sounds good." Also, Angela kept forgetting to talk to Tony about Eric. She had promised Sam on Monday that she would try to feel out his stance on letting her go ice skating with him on Friday night. "I'm sure Mother will be happy to come home with Sam on the train. She talked to me yesterday, and she knows something is going on."
"I figured. What do you think she knows?"
"She said something about how we needed time and space to sort some things out."
"So this is still between us?" Under the covers, his hand found her waist.
Angela nodded. It still felt a little surreal for either of them to acknowledge the pregnancy.
"I'm pretty sure. And let's keep it that way for now. We don't need to tell them everything at once. It's still so early. I'm not going to show for another two months at least. One step at a time, okay?"
"Whatever you feel comfortable with." Tony's hand was still on her waist, and he started rubbing his thumb over her hipbone.
"Above all, I want to feel comfortable with you," she whispered playfully and lifted one of her legs, hooking her knee over his opposite thigh. "I've missed you. Since Thanksgiving."
"Me too."
Something passed between them, and they inched closer and closer together, until their lips met in a soft kiss. But it didn't take long for the kiss to deepen and for Tony's hand to start pushing and pulling on her nightgown until it was up by her hips.
In between kisses, he looked at her with dark eyes. "We have some time until the alarm. And the door is locked."
Angela felt herself smile. "We do. And it is. Is there anything special you have in mind?"
He slipped his hand underneath the silky fabric of the nightgown and began to trace the seams of her panties.
"Something like this? But only if you feel up to it. And if it's … okay." A spark of insecurity flashed in his eyes.
God, she loved him so much. "Don't worry, it's safe. In fact, it's healthy."
"Oh yeah?"
She reached up to cup his cheek. "Happy mother, happy baby."
"In that case," Tony hummed and gently pushed her onto her back. Then he shoved her nightgown further up, and she helped him out by pulling it all the way over her head.
Even though it was so early in the morning, and she was sure that as the day progressed, she would regret not getting more sleep, right now this was what she wanted and needed the most. The contact, the closeness.
Tony began to slowly kiss his way down her body. From her lips to her chin, along her throat, over her collarbone, and on through the valley between her breasts. His hands came up and he stroked the sides, as if preparing to squeeze or suck, and that was when she had to intervene by stilling his hands with hers.
"They're kind of sore," she whispered, feeling a little self-conscious.
"Oh, I'm sorry." And then, after a brief pause, "Already, huh?" There was a genuine hint of wonder in his voice.
Then he ran his hands down her ribcage instead before moving on towards her stomach and down to her belly button. When he reached it, he pushed his tongue in and swirled it around a couple of times, eliciting a giggle from her.
It was such a relief to be together again after so many weeks full of stress and worry and so little opportunity to connect to each other and release some of the pressure.
Reminding herself of the clandestine nature of their activities, Angela covered her mouth with one of her hands and watched as Tony hooked his fingers under the elastic of her panties and pulled them down in one fluid motion.
Slowly, she spread her legs for him. Tony settled between them and continued to kiss his way downward, stopping when he reached the faded horizontal scar right above her hairline. They locked eyes, and in the fraction of a second, a wave of memories and emotions rolled over Angela.
ooooooooo
Back in September 1977, after hours and hours of labor and pushing in a myriad of positions, she had reached the end of her rope. She was exhausted and not making the kind of progress the doctor wanted to see, and Jonathan's heart rate began to dip.
Nothing before or since had made her feel more like a failure than being wheeled into the OR, having them put her under, and then waking up to the sight of Michael sitting next to her bed with baby Jonathan in his arms.
For nine months, she had dreamed of the moment she would welcome her baby into the world. And then she missed it entirely. She was shaky and nauseous from the anesthesia and unable to stop crying. Nobody could calm her down, not Michael, not the nurses.
It only got better when they finally placed little Jonathan on her chest, and she felt the weight of him, got to look into his large blue eyes, and his tiny hand closed around her index finger.
At least she didn't have any trouble nursing.
Even as an overweight teenager, her breasts had never been much to write home about (a gaggle of fellow students at Montague Academy had assured her of that one awful morning after gym class). But pregnancy led to some changes in that department, which her mother gleefully pointed out on more than one occasion – much to Angela's frustration.
She hated Mona's constant focus on her appearance. Her body was her business, and hers alone. Who gave her mother the right to comment on how much or how little she weighed, how big or small her breasts were, whether her skin was clear or not?
It made Angela proud to see Jonathan latch on and drink as if he had never done anything else in his life. Soon her supply was generous, and he gained weight quickly, looking plump and adorable like the Pillsbury Doughboy.
But Angela's infatuation with her son aside, recovering from a cesarean while taking care of a newborn had been no picnic.
Michael had to leave on assignment to the Amazon rainforest only ten days after the birth (Jonathan had been almost two weeks overdue), and she stayed behind with a touch of postpartum blues, a painful scar, and a baby that didn't know the difference between night and day. During those first few weeks, Jonathan never seemed to sleep for more than one or two hours at a time.
Her mother stayed in the tiny guestroom / office / storage room of their Manhattan apartment and took care of the basic necessities, and Angela could tell that she tried. They both did. But with their relationship being what it was back then, Mona didn't provide much of the motherly comfort and reassurance that Angela would have needed at this time in her life.
ooooooooo
"I love you," Tony whispered, bringing her back to the here and now.
All Angela could do was nod, the mixture of arousal and emotions making it hard to speak. This time around, so many things would be different.
Tony tore his gaze away from hers and pressed a tender kiss to her scar. Then he slid further down on the bed, and his head disappeared between her thighs.
His tongue teased and caressed her so expertly that she thought she might go out of her mind. His mouth on her felt warm and wet and thoroughly delicious, and all the tension of the past few weeks fell off her. Angela wondered dimly what she had done to deserve this.
Their hands found one another, and their fingers interlaced on the bed next to her hips as Tony continued to make her feel as if it were Christmas and Easter on the same day.
"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he murmured when he came up for air.
"So do you." She reached for him, pulling him up by his shoulders so she they could kiss. Tasting herself on his lips and tongue was a thrill of its own.
After a moment, Tony pulled back and quickly discarded his undershirt and pants. Then he was back between her legs, his strong shoulders and chest rising above her as he pushed inside carefully.
"God, you feel good," he sighed; the pregnancy, of course, absolved them of any further need for … barriers.
Angela could tell that he was deliberately gentle this morning, going slow and never too deep. Heavy breathing was all the noise they allowed themselves to make, and somehow, the restraint added a whole new level of intimacy to their lovemaking. They were truly in a world of their own.
When both of them reached the point of no return at the same time, and their teeth and tongues crashed together in an effort to absorb the energy of their joint climax, Angela thought that it felt like an affirmation:
This baby may not have been planned, but it was so, so wanted.
ooooooooo
"Hey, Angela," Tony said extra casually when she walked (or rather floated) into the kitchen about an hour later. He stood at the stove, scrambling eggs.
"Good morning," she said, fighting hard to keep the telltale grin off her face. It was all she could do not to break into song. 'Climb Every Mountain' kept echoing in her mind.
"Where are the kids?"
"We're kind of early this morning," Tony said with a glance at the clock above the kitchen door.
Seven-twenty. Right. "But you did wake them up?"
"Hey, of course. They should be down any minute. In the meantime, can I interest you in some breakfast?"
"No, just juice and coffee will be fine, thank you." The answer came out on autopilot.
"You sure?" he questioned. "I could make you some toast. Or do you want a banana?"
"Oh." The penny dropped and she continued in a low voice, "I should be eating better, huh?"
Tony gave her a lop-sided smile. "Just … maybe eat something? Only juice and coffee, that can't be good."
The idea of breakfast was revolting, so ingrained was her habit of having nothing but juice and coffee until at least eleven o'clock. But Tony looked at her with his brown puppy-dog eyes, and she knew that he meant well. It was his baby, too.
"I'll have a banana," she offered, opting for the lesser of two evils.
"Alriiight," Tony sing-songed and went to work peeling and cutting a banana into slices.
"Are you going to puree it, too?" Angela asked, unable not to.
"No," he said pointedly before he set a bowl with the banana slices down in front of her. "Unless you want me to?"
"No, thank you," she laughed. "This is very sweet of you."
"Marie had really bad morning sickness, the only thing that helped was when she ate something before she even got out of bed."
"I didn't have much of a problem with it when I had Jonathan."
Before Tony could answer, and as if on cue, Jonathan appeared in the kitchen. "Hey Mom, hey Tony."
"Good morning, darling," Angela said, balancing a piece of banana on her tongue.
"When did you start eating breakfast?" Jonathan inquired, his unnervingly observant self even before seven-thirty in the morning.
"Here are your eggs, champ," Tony said and served him his plate.
"It's better for you," Angela ad-libbed. "I'm trying to eat healthier."
"Uh-huh," Jonathan eyed her suspiciously.
"It's never too late to change," Tony said.
"Guess not. I never thought I would eat eggs, either," Jonathan said with a shrug. "But it was either that, or hunger."
"You see?" Angela said with a little too much enthusiasm. "It just took a little longer for me." Then she forced herself to spear another slice of banana and put it in her mouth.
"Have you heard Sam? Is she up?" Tony asked after a while.
"She was still in the bathroom when I came down."
They continued to have their breakfast, Jonathan emptying his plate of eggs with impressive speed, while every new bite of banana felt like a major accomplishment for Angela. She was just not used to eating in the morning. At least she could have sips of juice and (ever thinner) coffee in between.
Finally, about ten minutes before they would need to leave for the train, Samantha entered the kitchen.
"Sam, honey, why aren't you dressed?" Angela asked. Sam was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, certainly nothing suitable for the office.
"Can I talk to you in the living room? Both of you?" Sam asked in a small voice, looking back and forth between Tony and Angela.
Upon hearing her question, Jonathan dropped his fork onto his plate and pushed back his chair. "Why don't you allow me? I can tell when I'm not wanted. I have to feed Archie, anyway."
"Thank you, darling," Angela said, somewhat helplessly. She didn't want him to feel unwanted, but at the same time she was glad that they could get to the bottom of this immediately.
"I don't think I can come to work today," Sam said quietly.
"What's going on, Sam? I thought you were going to help prepare everything for the Christmas party tomorrow?" Tony set the egg pan down on the stove and drew up a chair next to Angela.
Sam remained standing near the kitchen door. First, she looked at her feet, then at Angela, whose heart began to beat faster. This wasn't good.
"Angela, I- I don't know how to tell you this. But, I kind of feel like I'm, uh, like I'm in the way at the office. Or not in the way maybe. But like … There's so much going on, and I'm not helping. I'm making everything more complicated. I locked your papers in that cabinet. And then yesterday you had to run out to that meeting over lunch when we were supposed to-" she interrupted herself and swallowed. "What I mean is, maybe it's better if I finish my internship here at home. With Dad."
When she was done, Sam didn't look at either of them. Her gaze remained fixed on something between and behind Tony and Angela.
"What?" Angela asked, dumbfounded. "Sam, no. I want you to come to the office with me. I'm sorry I was short with you on Monday. And about yesterday. There really is a lot going on. But I promise, we'll re-schedule the Russian Tea Room. How about Friday?"
Sam sighed, chewing her bottom lip. "I also have a headache."
Angela didn't know what to say.
"Come on, Sam," Tony tried. "You've been to Angela's office before. You know it can be hectic. But I'm sure you're not in the way."
"You really aren't," Angela reiterated. "We need you to help with the party. I want you there." Hot tears were suddenly burning behind her eyes. Had she really made Samantha feel so unwelcome that she preferred becoming her father's intern to spending the day with her at the office in Manhattan?
"I'm not feeling well," Sam said.
Below the table, Angela felt Tony's hand on her knee. In his best take-charge voice, he said, "Okay, we're running out of time here, ladies. How about this: Sam, you stay here today, take an aspirin for your headache, and then you help me out with the housework. I'll be at school until about two, so I'll be glad to have someone who can pick up the slack. And tonight, when you feel better, we'll talk about you going back to the office on Thursday and Friday. Okay?"
Sam mumbled something, still not looking at them.
"Okay?" Tony asked again.
This time, Sam looked up. "Okay. I'm sorry, Angela." Then she left the kitchen.
"Tony-" Angela started, but he turned towards her and took both of her hands in his.
"Don't worry about it, okay? I'll talk to her. She'll be back tomorrow. I promise."
"I'm so sorry. I had no idea she was this upset."
"Me neither. But she'll be fine. You're going to miss your train. Are you okay driving yourself to the station? If things go well with Sam, I say we're still going Christmas shopping tonight."
Angela exhaled, trying to compose herself. She did want to spend a couple of undisturbed hours with him. Now more than ever. They had to make some decisions so they could finally tell the kids, and her mother, what was going on – before the wheels came off this thing completely.
"I'm okay."
"Good," Tony said, "And please, don't worry. None of this is your fault. Hey, nothing is anybody's fault. We're just having a crazy week here, that's all."
Angela nodded, and before either of them could think about it, they pecked each other on the lips.
"Well!" came Mona's voice from the back door. "I'll be darned."