Michael was gone. It felt to Angela as though she could breathe again, the air suddenly lighter. The last couple of days with Michael hadn't been easy; resentments still simmered in the space between them, and Angela found that she could not get Tony out of her mind. He and Sam were coming for dinner that evening, and he had offered to arrive early and cook for them. She was looking forward to that, given the mediocrity of the food lately. It's not that she hadn't considered hiring a new housekeeper, but she couldn't seem to bring herself to "replace" Tony. Not that he was replaceable, of course.

Angela poked about her house, tidying, dusting, and giving it a last once over before Tony's arrival. She knew he would be horrified by the accumulated grime, and dust balls. Angela had not mopped in weeks, and it certainly wasn't Michael who was about to offer. Angela felt overwhelmed by the duty of house cleaning, and she tended to procrastinate when unpleasant tasks needed to be done. As such, the house was nowhere near the pristine condition that Tony had left it.

For his part, Tony could not wait to get back into Angela's kitchen and make her favorite dish, a pasta in creamy sauce with chicken and vegetables. He also planned Cannoli for dessert. Nothing wrong with a meal high in cream and cholesterol occasionally, especially since Angela was so thin. She had appeared thinner to him the last time he had seen her, and as such, he wanted to ply her with delicious food. The thought that a way to a person's heart was through their stomach popped into his head, but he dismissed it. Angela was married, it was as simple as that. Even if Michael sounded like a jerk.

"You ready to go, Sam?" he asked, hands full of grocery bags.

"Wait, no. Should I wear the red sweater or the blue one?" Sam came out of her room holding up two sweaters. "Which one?"

"Does it matter, Sam? We're going home … I mean, to Angela's house. She's seen all of your clothes already."

"Fine, I'll wear the blue one," she decided, and slipped it on over her T-shirt. "Can we go now?"

"Yes! I can't wait to cook in that kitchen again!" Tony grabbed his van keys with his free hand and asked Samantha to lock up their apartments.

When they arrived, Mona greeted them at the door.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Mona lamented, a huge smile lighting up her face. She leaned in and gave Tony a tight hug, then gave one to Samantha.

"Mone, Mone, it's so good to see you!" Tony exclaimed. "Where is Angela?"

"In the kitchen, come on."

"You let Angela in the kitchen today? But I'm gonna cook," Tony said. He hurried to the kitchen and opened the door in dismay. Angela was on her hands and knees scrubbing a small area of the linoleum. "What the _?" The sight of Angela on the floor, scouring tiles was so incongruous with Tony's image of her, that he just gaped.

"Tony!" Angela wrung out her sponge and clumsily stood up. "You're early."

"Yeah I'm cooking, remember? Making good food takes time. What are you doing with that sponge?"

She blushed deeply, "er, the floor had some sticky stuff and I wanted to get it out of your way."

"No, no no, Angela, that's not how you clean a floor. Besides, I can mop it quickly while dinner is cooking, okay?" He took the bucket of soapy water away from her despite her protests.

"But Tony, you're not my housekeeper anymore. I can't ask you to do that," she said.

"I'm not your housekeeper, but this here kitchen, it's gotta be kept a certain way. Looks like it's been neglected. I just wanna fix that, okay? No big deal. You trust me with your kitchen, right?" He looked her in the eyes and nodded at her. She gave an imperceptible nod back at him.

"Ok. I trust you with my kitchen, Tony."

"Good, good, 'cause I'm gonna make you a dinner you won't soon forget."

True to his word, Tony outdid himself with the Linguine Alla Vongole, and the Cannoli for dessert. Everything was homemade, including the Caesar side salad and warm garlic bread. Jonathan, Angela and Mona attacked the food as though starved.

"Oh, this is divine," Mona said between bites of linguine.

"Mom, how come we never eat like this anymore?" Jonathan piped up.

"Well Sweetheart, mommy and daddy aren't as good cooks as Tony," Angela explained, chagrined.

"Now there's an understatement," Mona said. "Michael doesn't cook at all, and Angela ruins everything she touches in the kitchen."

"Mother, I'm not that bad!"

"Angela, you tried to mash raw potatoes. Why do you think I never eat dinner with you anymore?"

"Honestly? I thought you couldn't stand Michael."

"That too," Mona admitted.

"Now, now, let's just enjoy the food, alright?" Tony gave Mona a sideway glance and shook his head. "It's so nice to eat together again; I've missed this family!"

"Yeah we miss you too," Jonathan said. "At least I get to see Samantha at school recesses but it's not the same as having you live with us. Why couldn't you stay?" Jonathan paused for moment, then said, "we need a housekeeper, don't we Mom? You can't cook or clean and I hate the after-school daycare!" The little boy shouted his last sentence, and they could all hear the anger in his voice.

"Jonathan, please." Angela felt herself flushing again. She felt as though she couldn't do anything right since Tony's departure. The only thing she felt in control of was her career, but even with that, Michael's resentment made her pull back the amount she brought home. Her messy home. Her sticky floors. Her unpalatable dinners. Her unhappy son. It was all too much and before she could stop it, a tear rolled down her cheek into the linguine before her.

"Whoa, whoa, are you okay?" Tony asked.

She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. Her son sounded so upset with her, and her mother was avoiding her company, and her friend had to come over to prepare her food and clean her floor. A sense of incompetence lodged itself in her heart and remained there, unyielding like a small stone. Angela stood up and went into the living room before the others could see her cry. Tony followed her out.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he said.

"No, it's not," she cried. "Don't you see? I'm doing it all wrong. Jonathan isn't happy and Mother is avoiding me, and I can't even wash my floors right." All the past few months of frustration, the stress with Michael and the challenges of parenting while working full-time poured out of her in that instant with a fresh torrent of tears.

"It's gonna be ok." Tony came up to Angela desperately wanting to comfort her. He hesitated for a moment before saying, "Shhh, come 'ere." He pulled Angela against him and wrapped his arms around her sobbing form. At first, she resisted, not wanting him to see her break down like this, but the feel of his arms around her undid her, and she leaned into him, her cheek pressed against his chest. She could hear his heart beating steadily in her ear. She took a deep, jagged breath between sobs, inhaling the scent of his aftershave combined with the food he had prepared. She wanted to breathe him in more deeply and bury her face in his neck. His arms tightened around her and she relished their strength and safety, her tears momentarily halted.

"You're a good mother, Angela," he told her.

"Yeah? So why is my son so upset with me?"

"Maybe he misses things the way they used to be," he offered. "I know I do."

"You do?" Stunned by his words, she disentangled herself from his arms and looked up into his face, her expression intense and questioning.

"Well you know, I mean, I miss our, er, this family, and living in a home, and Jonathan, and, well," he stumbled for a moment before making his thoughts clearer, "Sam and I weren't alone. When she got her period, it would have gone so much more smoothly if we'd been living here. She needed you. But ya know, Michael's back so it's, er, well, you know."

"Yes, I know." Angela shook her head sadly. "I never wanted you to leave, but I guess he felt it was necessary." Guilt niggled at her as she remembered the unceremonious way in which Michael had let Tony go. She had wanted him and Samantha to stay, though in retrospect, she could see how that arrangement would make her husband uncomfortable. "But you like it at Mrs. Randall's, don't you? Getting ready for college and all? Onto bigger and better." She needed him to say yes to assuage her conscience.

"I like the going to college bit, that's for sure," he said. "But I wouldn't say I'm onto bigger and better, no. 'Cause I could have gone to college from here too." Seeing the remorseful look on Angela's face, Tony decided to change the subject. "But there is one thing we can change for the better."

"What's that?"

"Jonathan's after-school care. Kid says he hates it."

"Yes, but I can't be home when school lets out. I must stay at work until at least five o'clock. And Mother is in school."

"I'm home at half past three, Angela. He could come home with Samantha after school, then you can pick him up from my place after work," he suggested.

"You'd do that?" she asked, her face lighting up.

"Sure I would. I gotta be home for Sam anyway. Jonathan would love it. He can ride a horse, or play tennis or go swimming, after he finishes his homework. And I'd make him a healthy snack. Besides he and Sam get along great. It's a win-win."

"You don't have to sell me. That sounds wonderful," she said, tears forming in her eyes yet again.

"You're not gonna cry again, are you?"

"No, but I want to thank you. Thank you, Tony. Thank you for all your help. You're always there when I need you," she told him solemnly.

Tony felt self-conscious by the intensity of her gaze. "Hey, Ang, is it true you tried to mash raw potatoes?" he asked, lightening the moment.

"Uh, do I have to answer that?" she laughed.

"Nah, why don't we go tell the kids about the new after school arrangement?"

"Oh Tony, Jonathan is going to be so happy, thank you!"

Tony smiled at her, thinking how happy he was now that he would get to see Angela every single afternoon when she picked Jonathan up after work. He would be able to engage her in a conversation, see how she was doing and make sure she was okay.

"It's my pleasure, Angela. I love _," he paused for a moment because her head shot up so suddenly at his words. "I love Jonathan; he's a great kid," he finished.

Angela nodded and leaned in to give Tony a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you for loving my son and taking such good care of him," she said hoarsely.

"Well thank you for loving my daughter and helping her," he volleyed back and leaned in to quickly return her kiss on the cheek. His lips lingered for a moment before they made a kissing noise as he pulled back.

"It's a very loving family," Mona said, her head popping into the living room from the kitchen door.

"Mother! How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough, dear. Long enough."