A/N: So. I did read 'The Pale King' many years ago, and I loved it. But that doesn't make me a tax specialist. I have very (!) limited experience with the tax laws that would apply to our favorite family's situation, let alone back in 1989. I did my research and tried to make everything as plausible as possible, but there was some creative license involved. Please keep that in mind when reading this chapter. ;)


Ch 53 – Kintsugi (4)

"Okay." Angela didn't know what else to say. She kept nodding, still floored by Tony's request.

"Is that a yes? Do you accept? My notice, I mean?" he asked, his brows slanted anxiously.

Deep down, Angela had known that a moment like this was coming. It had been on the horizon for weeks, if not months.

She had even prepared for it by sending Marty those boxes full of documents before Christmas, and she had talked to him about their options only two days ago.

Still, she felt blindsided.

Maybe because talking to Marty hadn't exactly boosted her confidence that Tony would feel comfortable with whatever solution they found for their rather unique predicament. But now here Tony was, offering to her precisely what Marty had recommended.

ooooooooo

The first thing Marty had asked her was whether they absolutely had to get married.

"I'm serious, Angela. Your situation right now – it's a dream. I mean … You have the new business, and you're paying Tony. He's going to school, you each have a kid. What more do you want?" Marty laughed. "Who cares if you're living in sin? That's tax credit heaven!"

Sitting behind her desk in the den, Angela hadn't know whether she should laugh with Marty, or feel indignant at his enthusiasm and choice of words. She remembered Fred and Ginger calling it that, too. 'Living in sin.' Nothing about their love felt sinful.

Then again, didn't Marty's obvious eagerness to find the best strategy for them indicate the high quality of his services? He was a smart guy – too smart for his own good, she would learn a couple of year later –, and he only had her best interests at heart. From a tax accountant's point of view.

Marty had every right not to care that Angela wanted to stand in front of the altar, or the registrar, or even a justice of the peace with Tony. That she wanted them to have wedding rings, and a wedding night, and wedding anniversaries. That she wanted to take his name and give it to their baby, too.

"Marty," Angela said, "Tony and I getting married is not up for discussion." She looked at her left hand as she spoke, the elegant ring with the small diamond reflecting the light of the ceiling lamp. Should she tell him that he was pregnant?

"You sure?" Marty asked, and after she responded with a little more emphasis, "Yes, I'm sure!", he gave in and began to explain.

He really couldn't recommend keeping Tony as her employee once they were married. The IRS would invariably deem his very generous salary excessive, suspecting that his job as a housekeeper was a sham position, designed to lower the tax burden on Angela's own sizeable income.

At the very least, Tony would have to take a significant pay cut so his remuneration would match that of the other housekeepers in their neighborhood.

"But even then!" Marty cackled on the other end of the line. "You'd go down in history for 'Bower versus the Internal Revenue Service. Imagine setting that precedent! Millions of housewives suddenly wanting to get paid!"

Angela was glad she hadn't told him about the baby. She didn't find this scenario funny at all. Wouldn't it be only fair for housewives – in fact, for people of either sex! – to receive fair compensation for work performed inside the home?

At the back of her mind, the seed of an idea began to take root, but she couldn't think about it in depth because Marty kept on talking.

He seemed to have remembered who he was speaking to here because he added hastily: "Of course that would be great! Very enlightened. But it's not an advisable course of action. Unless you want to spend the next couple of years in court and talking to auditors."

Angela sighed. "Don't worry, Marty. We're not looking to maintain the status quo. Tony is planning to change careers, but until then, well – he does have three-and-a-half years of college left. And I suppose what I'm looking for in the meantime is some advice on how to best, well-"

"Streamline your operation a little bit?"

"Something like that, yes."

"Well, in that case: married, filing jointly. And start paying Tony's tuition out of a joint account as soon as you can," he said flatly, now audibly bored with Angela's case.

"That's it?" She didn't know what she had expected, but she was surprised that the answer was so simple.

"Well," Marty perked up again. "If you want to get a little bit fancy, and if you would be willing to terminate Tony's contract before the wedding or maybe even backdate the termination a little to – say – the 31st of December, you could claim him as a dependent on your '89 return."

"Oh, no. No!" Angela pulled the phone cord tight around her right index finger. She felt physically ill at the thought of having to ask Tony for something like this. "That's not an option."

"I see." Marty sounded disappointed. "Well, there's only so much I can do with a stay-at-home-husband. I'm assuming that's what Tony is going to be?"

Angela had no idea. Tony would probably want to look for another job, right? So he wouldn't … what had he called it before Christmas? Right, he didn't want to be mooching off her. She dropped a hand into her lap and hooked her thumb under the waistband of her leggings.

"We're- we're not sure. Maybe. Or he might take a job on campus."

Marty cleared his throat. "Well, at least he's going to school. We can work with that. Joint account, remember!"

"Joint account."

"Good, oh, and if Tony does get a job – give me another call. In that case, I could work something out for you. Going forward, I mean. Once he has his own income." That sounded cryptic. "It's too complicated to explain on the phone, but let me just say, I have achieved excellent results for a number of my clients. You would be ideal candidates."

ooooooooo

"Sweetheart?" Tony asked, stroking her knuckles with the pads of his thumbs.

Angela blinked.

The official end of Tony's tenure as her housekeeper was only the next step in a long series of steps – some intentional, some not – beginning when he had pulled Grant off her in the kitchen and she just couldn't bring herself to fire him, or maybe when she helped him clear out his dad's apartment, and at the very least when they kissed each other for the second time in their lives, three sheets to the wind in the kitchen on the night of her 35th birthday.

Then why was she so taken aback? She had expected them to come to this decision together.

But was that really what she would have wanted? She had once spent a tear-soaked afternoon at Dr. Bellows's office, lamenting the fact that she was always the one to have to do the asking, the one to go first.

Angela's heart began to feel lighter as she thought back to that day, to her talk with Dr. Bellows that had helped her gain some much-needed clarity after the whole Frankie debacle.

'I suppose I think about 'us' every now and again.'

'And what do you think about? Marriage, sex, children?'

Naturally, she had denied all of it. Especially the sex part. And now she had Tony's ring on her finger and their baby in her belly. Life could be funny sometimes.

Angela swallowed back tears, suddenly moved by the memory of Jonathan's little voice on that hectic morning in September of 1984, the very beginning. Her sweet, sweet boy.

"It's okay with me, Mom."

Now it was up to her. With one little word, she could end the arrangement that had brought them together, that had given them a safe cover for more than four years, but that had also become more and more of a burden the longer it lasted.

If she said yes, it would all disappear. But Tony would still be here, with his hands still closed around hers on the tabletop.

She knew that he had certain expectations for himself, and that this couldn't have been an easy decision to make, agreeing to let her help him out financially while he didn't have an income. Angela didn't mind, it was what spouses all over the country did for each other.

Only, it was hardly ever the woman who paid.

She could tell that taking this step had cost Tony something, and a part of her was glad about it. That part didn't want this to be easy for him, because it wasn't easy for her, either, dealing with his insecurities.

It would take her a while longer to forgive him for all the things he had said, and for how he had made her feel. But she had no doubt that she would, eventually.

The pulling sensation low in her belly was back, but it felt harmless this time, just muscles and ligaments stretching. Briefly, she thought of Dr. Solomon's brochure in her purse. Under different circumstances, she would have wanted to talk to Tony right away, get his perspective, have him ease her anxious mind. But that would have to wait.

Angela took a deep breath.

She could appreciate the magnitude of Tony's gesture, and what it meant for him to place their relationship and their family above his sense of pride.

Michael would rather have cut his right arm off than let her be the breadwinner. The moment she had signed the divorce papers, she had sworn to herself that she would never again be with a man who couldn't handle the fact that she was a successful woman.

She and Tony – they weren't out of the woods just yet, Angela wasn't naïve. But they were further along on their journey than she and Michael had ever come, despite having spent twice as much time together.

'Angela, you don't think these things. You feel them!' Wasn't that how Tony had put it one afternoon right here in the kitchen?

All the hurt of the past 48 hours aside, Angela felt it in her bones, or maybe it was her soul – or both – that they had what it took to go the distance

She looked up into Tony's brown eyes, and she saw everything there. The love, and the concern, the guilt, and – yes – the insecurity. It wouldn't magically disappear, but she believed him when he said that he would work on it.

She, too, loved him enough to give it a shot. And so, when the words finally came, they came easy.

"Of course. Yes. A thousand times yes."

Tony nodded, relief written all over his face. "Thank you, I love you."

Only now did Angela notice that both of their hands were shaking. They leaned in for a jittery kiss that lasted a long, long time, as if to bridge the distance between these two chapters of their lives.

A seismic shift had occurred between them. And yet, the clock on the kitchen counter was still ticking like before, the refrigerator made its usual noises, and there was still leftover lasagna on Angela's plate.

Nothing had changed, but everything was going to be different.