Summary: After a brief respite, Angela's life fills again with work hassles and endless antics at home.
After the stress of the past few weeks, the prospect of a weekend away, even at a baseball reunion, is suddenly incredibly appealing.
First, there was the issue of Mother's redesign of Mature Woman Magazine, promptly followed by a T-shirt tug-war-war between Tony and me in which our children's covert operations pitted the two of us against each other. The endless tension and fighting was a constant aggravation of the stress I was already under from adjusting to another person's presence in the office and the hassles of the promotional campaign for the trip to Hawaii.
After about two weeks of calmer seas after I hired Jack, things returned to their hectic pace. It's almost as if my mind subconsciously decided that since I'm able to do more because of Jack, I therefore had to do more.
I'm getting off track. Trouble at home started, not surprisingly, at work. And although the end result was beneficial to all involved, the path to success was less than smooth. I have to say, Mother's bold and innovative ideas were welcomed. She spoke up and said what I had been afraid to. Mature Woman didn't need more marketing or promotional offers; it needed a whole new look, and she had the guts to say so. I would have lost the account for being too timid to say what needed to be said, and I owe her for saving the account for me.
And the new magazine was great. There were articles on cruises for seniors, decorating tips, getting the most from retirement funds, amusement park trips with the grandkids, top ten cities that cater to retired people, and summer concerts series in major areas. It went from a dull arts and crafts dust collector to an informative and engaging publication for an increasingly active generation.
And then there was the cover. Had it been any other woman gracing the front, glossy photo, clad in nothing more than a silk sheet, I would have been a bit surprised, but more impressed with the courage and initiative it takes to create a cover like that. But seeing that it was none other than Mona Robinson was a shock that I can honestly say I didn't see coming. And neither did Jonathan, who suffered the worst of the fallout. He was mortified to have his grandmother on display in such a provocative manner in front of his friends. And truth be told, I really couldn't blame him. He's not yet thirteen, and knowing the social challenges he faces in school, I could sympathize. That's not to say I approved of his behavior, but I was willing to let his anger run its course, trusting that he and his grandmother would eventually work out their differences. And they did. I grew up knowing my mother was the life of the party, every party, even frat parties at my dorm. But I wouldn't have her any other way, and I think Jonathan realized there are perks to having such a vivacious grandmother, though a trip to Hawaii isn't quite one of them.
And no sooner was the debut issue of the new Mature Woman wiped clean from the supermarket shelves (bringing in record rack sales I might add) then Tony and I were at each other's throats over something as silly as t-shirts. He is just so infuriatingly competitive. Okay, so I wasn't exactly backing down either, but it's still his fault, darn it. Meanwhile, Samantha and Jonathan were involved in a loan shark scheme Tony's Uncle Carmine would be proud of. I swear, for all his talk about lizards and snakes, my son is destined for a career in banking or stocks. And at the end of the day, it was the parents left picking up the pieces. We cleared our table and vowed to stay out of the flea market business for good. Our compatibility as working partners, it seems, ends at the front door.
So here I sit, taking some time to write before heading to St. Louis tomorrow for Tony's baseball reunion. I'm flattered he invited me along, though after almost five years, it seems so natural that we go together, as we've gone on vacations, holiday trips, and to family events. Even though the kids are saying home, I didn't hesitate when he said so casually, "Hey Angela, you wanna come with me?" In fact, I barely thought about my response before saying of course – until later when it occurred to me that this would be the first time we've been together alone overnight somewhere other than home in a long time. We'll be by ourselves in a hotel, albeit in separate rooms, without the kids or Mother, for two nights. I know Tony will be doing a lot of catching up with old friends, as well as preparing for the big game on Saturday. But he also said he was looking forward to some time alone to "enjoy ourselves." The last thing I want to do is read too much into it, especially since I'm not sure myself of what I would want to happen. Things have been so easy and comfortable between us despite the near-disaster of my birthday last spring, and the last thing I want to do is find myself in a similar, awkward situation. But I can hardly pretend that I haven't thought about the possibilities. I can only guess at what I'll have to say in my next entry.