Disclaimer: Still not mine.

7. Petunia

"I know something you don't know!" Jonathan was taunting Sam in a sing- songy voice.

"What twerp? Have you leaped over basic multiplication and started taking fortune telling?" Little brothers could be so annoying, even if they weren't technically your little brother.

Jonathan heaved a sigh of disdain and told her, "I learned multiplication years ago, and I'm actually starting in on algebra now." Samantha rolled her eyes. "Besides, I know something you don't know!"

"Jonathan! You're so annoying. Dad, can you make him stop?" She turned her pleading eyes towards her father.

"Will you all just stop!" Angela had been sitting quietly at the table staring dimly at her coffee cup, trying to fight back her increasing annoyance. She failed.

All eyes in the room turned to stare at her and she felt the bubble of annoyance begin to grow to enormous proportions. Before she had a chance to let loose, Tony stepped in and announced, "Hey guys, time for school." He shot a warning look at both of them. Sam and Jonathan got up meekly and quietly said their good-byes before leaving the room. Five seconds later, the argument picked up in the living room, only being silenced by the slam of a closing door. Tony turned and leaned against the cupboard, watching Angela with a raised eyebrow.

She could feel him staring at her and once again the unreasonable anger began to boil in her chest. "What? What are you looking at?" Her eyes flashed as she looked up at him. He continued to stare at her silently. "I haven't been sleeping well, okay? And the last thing I want to deal with this morning is those two fighting like cats and dogs. Again." When he still didn't say anything, she knew she had to get out or tear him and that sanctimonious look of his to shreds. She got up. "Look, I've got to go. I'll be home for dinner tonight. Six-thirty at the latest." Her voice was clipped and clear as she turned to him and spoke, "Goodbye Tony."

"Bye Angela." He answered politely, watching her rush through the door. To himself he said, "Oh boy, that was a fun breakfast. Sheesh!" He shook his head and began clearing the dishes from the table.

The remainder of the day seemed to go from bad to worse. In fact, Angela considered the gloomy breakfast earlier on to be the highlight of her day. In her current state of mind, the only thing she wanted was to hole up in her office and forget the rest of the world for a while. Unfortunately, the world kept knocking at her door. First, the copy for the Anderson account got lost in transit and then the Squeegee Pop people called to say they were 'seriously reconsidering' the direction of their campaign. To top things off, instead of pitching in to help like the rest of the staff, her mother had decided to go shopping, because as she so delicately put it, "Your bad mood is making me irregular."

When Angela finally dragged herself in through the front door around 8:30, she was hoping against hope for a calm, peaceful atmosphere and the lingering scent of lasagna in the air. Instead, Alice Cooper belted out 'Hey Stoopid' from upstairs and the pile of empty pizza boxes on the coffee table negated any remaining hopes for a decent supper. As she stood in the door, pondering whether to stay and fight or to flee and hide, Jonathan came barreling down the stairs. "Hey Mom!" he called out over the noise and began rooting through the pizza boxes. Tony walked into the room from the kitchen, took one look at the disheveled living room, the pile of boxes, and the frozen appearance of Angela in the doorway, and decided it was time for action. "SAM! TURN THAT OFF!" he yelled upstairs.

Faintly, over the din of music was heard, "What Dad? I can't hear you."

"Turn it OFF!" His last word reverberated in the sudden silence of the house. He smiled sheepishly at Angela and called up less loudly, "Thanks Sam." Turning towards Jonathan and the pizza mountain, he announced, "You. Boxes. Garbage. Now." Jonathan just shrugged and gamely started gathering the boxes with one arm; the other hand holding the greasy pizza crust he was still nibbling away at. Finally, Tony turned to look at Angela; slightly fearful of the reaction he was sure was waiting for him. Instead, all he got was stony silence and a frosty glare as Angela hung up her coat and then headed up the stairs without a backward glance.

Twenty minutes later, after a shower and a change of clothes, Angela felt she might be able to face her family again. After all, they weren't responsible for the mess she called her love life. They didn't even know she'd ruined another perfectly good relationship because of her failure to commit, her inability to love. The truth be told, even these reasons weren't the source of her anger. She was mad at herself because instead of being sad about ending things with Barry, she was feeling relief. However, this really wasn't the time for in-depth self-analysis. That could wait until later. Right now, all she wanted was a bite to eat and a sympathetic shoulder to lean on.

The sight of Tony smoothing his hair in the coat-rack mirror made her pause halfway down the stairs. She felt instantly annoyed as she realized that he was probably on his way out. "Going out tonight?" she asked him, continuing her descent.

Tony's head jerked up at her voice and he wheeled around to face her, surprised by her sharp tone. "Well, yeah actually. It's Friday night and I thought I'd go out and have a couple of laughs." Part of him wanted to stay and find out what was bugging her, but the rational part of his brain kept telling him to mind his own business. If she wanted to talk to him, she'd talk to him.

"I'm a little surprised," she found herself saying. "It's not like you to leave your chores undone."

"What?" he asked, genuinely confused. "It's Friday night and technically I'm off the job. If it's about the pizza, I cleaned up the mess and got everything straightened up."

She looked around the room and grudgingly admitted to herself that things did look tidy. "Well...what about the kids...and me? Don't I pay you to provide meals for me occasionally?"

"What about the kids? Bonnie and Sam are having a sleepover up in Sam's room, and Jonathan's doing his homework in his room. Who knows where Mona is. And I figured when you didn't come home that you were probably eating out, but I left a couple of slices in the fridge just in case you weren't."

"Oh. Well, there are other things too."

"Like what?" he asked, exasperated.

"Like, like...those flowers!" Angela's eyes had been desperately searching the room for a flaw and had come to rest on the vase full of faded blossoms over by the stairs.

Tony followed her gaze and felt a small stab of pain as he realized which flowers she was talking about. All he could say was "Oh."

"What's with the dead flowers? Look, they're faded and dusty and frankly more than a little depressing to look at."

Quietly he spoke, "I think they're fine like that."

"Tony, I want them gone!"

"No." He couldn't touch them. He hadn't gone near them in months, and he would never touch them again if he could help it.

"Tony! You're the housekeeper. Housekeepers clean, and to me, decaying flowers do not say 'clean'." A gentle voice in the back of her head kept nagging her to shut up, but the anger was much more powerful.

"Fine!" At last he felt his own anger boil to the front. "Look, I get that you're going through a tough time right now, but taking out your frustrations out on me and everyone else is not okay. If you want the damn flowers gone, get rid of them yourself!" Storming out of the house, he slammed the door shut behind him and headed for his car.

"Fine!" Angela yelled after him in frustration, perilously close to tears. She grabbed the flower heads and yanked them towards her, watching in horror as the vase slid across the cupboard and crashed to the floor.

Dammit! Why was nothing in her life working anymore? She released a short breath and headed for the kitchen in search of a broom and dustpan. It wasn't until she was kneeling on the floor in front of the broken shards that it occurred to her which vase it was. The Christmas vase – the one Tony had sold his baseball card for. A wave of sadness washed over her as the memory enveloped her and she realized how much had changed between them, not just over the years, but in recent months as well.

In the midst of the shattered glass, she noticed a crumpled piece of paper. She reached for it with a mystified expression on her face. The confusion increased as she opened it and read the writing.

To Angela,

Every day I find myself thankful for whatever force brought you into my life and my daughter's life. (And I'm not talking about your Mother.) Your friendship has been an amazing gift, one I hope to never lose. I'm not sure what the future holds for us, but the one thing I am sure of is you.

With love, Tony

Angela sat and stared in wonder at the card, trying to piece together the little fragments floating through her mind. When had he written this? Why was it crumpled in the bottom of a vase full of withered flowers? Were they for her and if they were, why hadn't he given them to her? Most of all, why didn't he throw them out when their beauty had faded, leaving them instead to fade and decay? She felt as if she had just discovered a clue to a mystery – one she couldn't comprehend.