The easy motion of sorting through the boxes soothed Tony. There was something about putting things in order, putting things where they were supposed to go that pleased him immensely. The hands-on nature of the work was satisfying to him in a way that sorting through old memories would never be. So, he dug into the boxes until the very last was empty and all that remained were scattered piles placed randomly about the room.
He got up and stretched, surveying at all the work that was left. Somehow, things always got messier before they got better. It was only when the front door slammed that he glanced out the window and noticed that the last remnants of light had faded into darkness. Where had the day gone?
The frown that crossed his face was quickly replaced by a smile as a familiar voice called out, "Hello! I'm home! Anybody here?" Faintly, he could hear the click of high heels on the hardwood floor. He was almost positive she was checking the kitchen before continuing her search. "Tony?" Angela's voice rang out through the silent house and his smile grew wider. She always looked for him first. "Jonathan? Mother? Anyone?"
He couldn't resist crossing over to the door and calling out to her. "Up here!" While a part of him longed to just finish what he started, a larger part of him wanted to see her. Actually, a large part of him wanted to rush down the stairs to greet her, but restraint and a sense of duty held him back. He waited until he was sure that he could hear her footsteps mounting the stairs, before turning back to his mess. Tiredly, he scrubbed his face and ran his hands through his hair. Such a big mess.
"Tony?" Angela called again, her voice nearer, but still uncertain.
"In the attic." The tap of her heels sounded once again on the stairs and he grinned when she appeared at the door. "You found me."
Her grin matched his. "It wasn't easy, but I always do."
"Yeah, you do don't you?" He walked over and wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the feel of her body pressed against his. She looked up at him sweetly and they shared a warm kiss. "So...Good day?"
"Uh-huh," she answered, distracted by the state of their surroundings. "Um, Tony. What are you doing up here?"
Briefly, he looked away. "Just some cleaning."
"Cleaning? Are you sure? It looks more like a rummage sale." Her nose crinkled up at the mess.
"Eh-oh. You don't like my cleaning methods?" he teased.
"Well, it's not so much the method as it is the lack of cleanliness."
With twinkling eyes, he responded, "Well you know what they say...."
"What?"
"I've got no idea, but they say it." He laughed at his own joke before releasing his hold on her. Turning, he waved at the mess. "This...this is a work in progress."
"Some progress," she retorted merrily as she glanced around the room. "Well, I should probably go and leave you to it."
"Yeah, yeah," he agreed, rubbing his hands together. "You hungry?"
Angela shook her head. "No, I ate in the city." She turned to go, but paused at the top of the stairs, hesitating before finally giving in and asking, "Tony, are you alright?"
"Oh yeah, couldn't be better. Why?"
"I don't know, you just seem.... Do you need any help?" She moved nearer to him.
"Nah. I've got things covered. You go do what you need to do."
"Oh. Okay then." She nodded and turned to leave again, when something caught her eye, something that seemed to explain his presence in the attic. Leaning forward, she grabbed an old photo frame and studied it closely. "She really was beautiful. Sam looks just like her."
"Yeah." He looked down and toed a scuff mark on the floor
"Tony," she said softly, "What are you doing up here?"
His body sagged a little and he sat down wearily on an old steamer trunk. "Goin' through some old things. This," he reached toward her and grabbed the picture, cradling it in his hands. "This is goin' to Sam." Briefly, he traced the features of the face that stared up at him from the frame. "She should have it. It's not doin' anyone any good up here."
Angela smiled sympathetically and sat down beside him. "That's a good idea. Sam will love it."
He looked up at her eagerly, "You think?"
Sagely, she nodded and added, "I know."
They sat in silence for several moments, contemplating the face of Tony's first love, before Angela spoke again. "Tony...."
He interrupted her. "I never talk about her, you know. I mean, Sam and I, sometimes we talk about the old days. What it was like before... But I don't... I just can't talk about her with other people."
"Tony, you don't have to...."
"Yeah, I do. Cause you and me, we don't keep the important stuff from each other."
"I understand."
"I know you do, but I've been thinking that maybe it's time to let Marie go. I can't keep holding onto the idea of her and keep living my life. It's not fair to her. Or to you."
"Tony, she was your wife. You loved her. I don't need for you to let go of that. I know you love me too. What was...doesn't matter."
He stared at her for a long moment and then took her hand and squeezed it. "You're amazing, you know that? But this," he gestured toward the pile of boxes, "this is something I gotta do."
She nodded and tried to get up. "I'll leave you to it then."
He held her hand tight and refused to let go. "Stay."
"Tony, I...."
"Please?"
She looked into his dark eyes and smiled at what she found there. "So, what can I do?"
"You can listen, if you want, or help me pack. All this stuff, the memories, it's hard to go back there." Tony shrugged and began placing a few items in a box.
A wave of silence fell between them as they repacked the boxes and hung heavy in the air. Finally, Angela cleared her throat. "Uh, Tony?"
"Yeah?" He didn't look up.
"How can I listen if you're not talking?"
"I'm not sure what to say." He shrugged, "Ask me something, anything."
Nervously, she studied him. "Anything?"
He nodded.
"I feel like I know her, because I know you and Sam and I met Nick... Sam's told me some things, Mrs. Rossini too... but...I don't know, there's things I wish I knew."
It took a moment for him to respond. "Like what?"
"Oh, little things mostly. Like what it was like with you and her when Sam was a baby.... The things you loved about her and the things that bugged you the most.... What she wanted for Sam.... And..." her voice faded to a whisper. "...How she died." Angela wrapped her fingers around Tony's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, waiting to hear his answer.