Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.
4. Evening Scented Stock
The thought that there was still a chance to tell Angela how he felt carried Tony through the rest of the night, and most of the next day. Breakfast was the same as ever, with him and Angela flirting lightly over her juice and coffee, as the kids rolled their eyes in the background. By the time everyone headed out the door bound for work and school, he was convinced that the previous night was just an aberration, a blip in the radar screen of his life. He even whistled as he went about straightening the house, taking care to move the flowers from the spot he had unceremoniously shoved them to their rightful place of honor. He took pride in the fact that everything in the house had a place where it belonged, and the flowers belonged on the cupboard next to the stairs. He took the thought a step further as he realized that each family member also had a place in the house where they belonged. Angela had her study, he had the kitchen, and he guessed Samantha had her room. Then again, he thought, maybe she belonged next to the telephone, which seemed to be more often than not permanently attached to her ear. He paused mid flicker of the feather duster as he tried to pin down which spot most said 'Mona'. Somehow, the image of her breezing in and out of doorways on her way between her various dates was the thought that featured most prominently in his mind. Deftly working his way over the various knickknacks on the bookshelf, he tried to decide where Jonathan belonged. Funny, no one spot seemed to scream his name. It was almost as if he was a part of the framework of the house, never completely defining anything around him. Tony figured that maybe he'd have to do something about that but shrugged the idea away. Jonathan was still a work in progress.
It was mid-afternoon before reality came along to shatter his serenity. He grabbed the ringing phone and answered it with a hearty, "Hello, Bower residence."
"Hey Tony." It was Angela.
She could hear the smile in his voice as he replied. "Hey Angela, what's up?"
She hesitated half a second before continuing. "I felt bad about last night and I didn't want to leave you in the lurch again."
"Oh?" He was completely flatfooted, had she guessed his intentions about last night?
"Yeah, I wanted to let you know in advance that I won't be home until later tonight. I've got plans in the city."
Plans? Again? He couldn't help but ask her, "You've got plans, another date?" He felt a sinking sensation inside as he realized he already knew the answer.
"Yeah, with Barry." She wondered why she felt so reluctant to tell Tony about this new man in her life.
"So his name is Barry. What..." Tony stopped himself, fighting back the urge to pry into her life. He released a short breath and then switched directions. "Um, okay, it's no big deal. I'll let the kids know you won't be home 'til later."
Angela bit her lip, feeling a little guilty. Guilt? Why was she feeling guilt? It wasn't as if the children would be upset if she missed another dinner; it was hardly a rare occurrence in her life. "Thanks Tony. I shouldn't be too late."
"No problem."
Silence settled over the phone line before Angela spoke again. "Well, I guess I should be getting back to work. You know, people to see, things to sell..."
"Oh yeah, I know, me too. Clothes to wash, beds to make... Busy, busy, busy. Bye Angela."
"Bye Tony." She spoke softly and stared at the receiver for a long moment before hanging it up. She shook her head firmly as if to clear it, then straightened her posture in the chair. Time to get back to work.