Chapter 5

Angela woke up feeling much better the day after revealing her deepest, darkest secret to Tony. For the first time in four days, she awoke without a sore throat, headache or fever. She felt weak, yes, but she'd successfully combatted the worst of her flu and navigated through old horrific memories with Tony as her confidant and best friend. Best friend. They were officially best friends; the mutual declaration solidifying and strengthening a friendship that was already so vital to Angela's daily existence. She needed Tony and she trusted him. And he'd shed tears for her; no man had ever done that. He'd bravely allowed, no, encouraged her to unburden herself. She'd never told a single soul about the rape or its associated guilt and shame, until last night. Tony's words stayed with her like a balm on her wounds. Tony who told her not to blame herself and who made her see for the first time how truly innocent she'd been. Seeing the events from his perspective gave her a new understanding. None of it had been her fault; Tony helped her recognize that Lyle was the only guilty party in all of this. Lyle had betrayed her trust and stolen the last remnants of her childhood. Angela closed her eyes for a moment and mentally swept the image of Lyle out of her mind. She wasn't going to revisit her traumatic past again anytime soon. Her soul baring conversation with Tony had brought some healing to her ravaged psyche but she was also emotionally spent. She smiled now, looking forward to seeing him at breakfast. She felt well enough to go downstairs and was rather desperate to leave the confines of her bedroom.

XXXX

"Do I hafta eat these eggs? They look runny", Jonathan complained to Tony. The little boy was feeling a bit apprehensive; he wasn't allowed to see his mom and he missed her. Plus, he was worried because her fever had been so high. His anxious tummy churned at the sight of those yucky looking eggs.

"Jonathan, they're the same as they are every morning. Now come on and hurry up or you'll miss your bus!" Tony told him. He felt badly for the kid staring down at his breakfast with sad eyes. "Hey Pal-o-mine, your mom is getting better. You know, I bet she'll be having breakfast with us again real soon."

"Yeah, don't worry Jonathan. Dad said that your mom's fever was a lot lower last night." Sam added her own reassurances. She'd been very worried about Angela herself but hadn't wanted to let on in front of Jonathan.

"But she's been sick for days! My mom is never sick", Jonathan complained. He let out a small sniffle then tried to hide it. He didn't want Sam to see him cry.

"Actually, I'm feeling much better today", Angela announced as she swung open the kitchen door and shakily walked over to the kitchen table. She still felt weak but she'd deeply missed her son and wanted to see him before school.

"Mommy!" Jonathan exclaimed joyfully. "Mom! You're here! Can I hug her, Tony?"

"Go ahead kiddo. She does seem a lot better" Tony smiled at her. Jonathan happily threw his little arms around his mother's waist. Samantha got into the joyful melee and managed to hug Angela from the other side, each child greeting her enthusiastically. Angela felt their love and squeezed them back hard. "I've really missed you guys", she told them.

"We've missed you too, Angela", Samantha told her earnestly. "But unfortunately, we've gotta 'hug and run'. The bus is waiting. Come on Squirt", she said to Jonathan as she gently nudged him to get ready. The little boy shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth, suddenly feeling a lot happier and hungrier. He waved to his mom and followed Sam out.

Angela stared at the children's retreating backs as they hurried to catch their school bus. They were so sweet and loving . . . and innocent. She thought about Samantha, who had recently turned fourteen. Just a few months younger than Angela had been when Lyle had . . . no, she wasn't going to think about Lyle. But she thought about Samantha and her own younger self. Had she really been that young and small? Samantha—under the make-up and trendy clothes was still a little girl, only a few years older than her son. For the first time ever, Angela saw her teenaged self through maternal eyes. The realization of how young and vulnerable she'd been hit her hard, like a sick punch to the gut. "Oh", she cried.

Tony heard her distressing cry and turned around to face her. "Are you alright, Angela?"

Angela shook her head. "No! Was I that little, Tony? Like Sam? Ohhh, I was just a baby . . . I hadn't realized. How could he have done that to me at that age? I didn't realize . . . Tony?" She felt completely lost-the new perspective and understanding shocked her.

Tony noted the perturbed look in her dark eyes and quickly stepped over to her. He put his hands on her shoulders to steady her. "That's what I was telling you last night, Angela. You were just a kid, like Sam is now. None of it was your fault. Are you seeing it now?"

"Yes, Tony", she cried. "I am. But it's making me feel sick."

Tony pulled her into a hug and held her tightly. He knew that their talk last night would stir up a hornet's nest of emotions. After all, she hadn't talked or thought about those horrendous events for two decades. For it to all surface now was definitely taking a toll on her. And he wasn't going to let her go, not for a second.

They were standing in the kitchen, holding onto each other, neither wanting to let go. For the first time in her life, Angela was allowing herself to be comforted for the terrible trauma of her rape over twenty years ago. She let herself relax into Tony's embrace, feeling safe and secure in his arms. She unwrapped her arms from around his torso and folded them up against her chest, nestling closer to him while he continued to hold her firmly against himself. Tony gently rubbed Angela's back in a soothing, circular motion to calm her down. Her breathing slowed down and she gratefully rested her head on his shoulder. How long they stayed like that, neither of them could have said. The knock at the door startled them; Geoffrey's trademark "Shave and a Haircut" rhythm rapped intrusively, breaking up Tony and Angela's tender moment. She regretfully extricated herself from Tony's arms and went to answer the back kitchen door.

She'd barely opened the door partway when Geoffrey's loud, exuberant enthusiasm assaulted her ears. "My Angel! You're up! You're feeling better. Oh, that's so wonderful!" he exclaimed happily.

"Hello Geoffrey. Yes, I'm feeling better. No fever today and I think I might even have some toast. Have you eaten yet?" Angela gestured to the kitchen table for him to sit. She needed to sit; her legs still felt rather wobbly.

"Hi Geoff", Tony greeted him politely, hiding his annoyance. "Can I get you some coffee?"

Geoffrey nodded at Tony and turned his full attention to Angela. "You still look so pale, my Sweetums", he told her. Angela had to hold back from rolling her eyes—she wasn't in the mood for her boyfriend's intense attention. She was still processing everything and Tony was the only person she felt safe enough to confide in. She knew that she would not be telling Geoffrey about Lyle. Just imagining his reaction made her cringe inwardly.

"Well, Angela? What do you say?" Geoffrey was looking at her, waiting for a response.

"What?" Momentarily distracted by her own thoughts, Angela had no idea what Geoffrey was asking her.

"Hey, did I lose you there? I was asking you about this weekend. Do you think you'll feel well enough on Sunday to accompany me when I take Mother Wells to the ballet? I had bought you a ticket before you became ill …", he looked at her expectantly.

"This Sunday? Oh, I don't know. That's only the day after tomorrow. I haven't done any work all week and I need to plan a strategy for winning my cereal account back from Jim Peterson." Angela loved the ballet but she wasn't crazy about boring old Mother Wells and she really did need time to do some work.

"But you said you already lost that account? Why would you waste your time trying to get it back? You win some, you lose some, Angela. However, an afternoon at the ballet will be wonderful. I'll pick you up and you can just rest and enjoy it!" Geoffrey tried to persuade her but was met by a glint of anger in her eyes.

"I win some, I lose some?! Really Geoffrey. I didn't lose this account!" She shouted indignantly. "Jim stole it from me by spreading vile rumors about me. He insinuated to my client that I was fired from Wallace & McQuaid for lewd sexual behavior. I can't let that slide!" A deep rage was welling up inside of Angela. She was angry at Jim but her fury was mostly directed towards Lyle and her lost innocence. The double whammy of vile attacks reached a crescendo and she could feel her blood begin to boil. Geoffrey just happened to be caught in the crosshairs.

"Angel, calm down", he said to pacify her and because he was stunned by the intensity of her anger.

"Don't tell me to calm down, Geoffrey! When a sick bastard like Jim Peterson thinks that it's okay to sully my reputation in order to steal my account, I need to fight back!" Angela felt the deep rage expand into her belly, then rise up into her chest until it popped out of her mouth, "I won't be treated this way!" she cried.

Geoffrey was flabbergasted. Where was his sweet Angela? This pale, angry woman was yelling at him and he didn't know what to do. He looked to Tony for help but was met with a shrug. Tony knew where this fury was coming from and he wasn't surprised by it.

"Here's your coffee Geoff. You know, maybe Angela should rest this weekend—she's been sick all week and has a busy week of catching up ahead of her." Tony was trying to maintain peace between the couple for Angela's sake. He knew she didn't need the stress of a fight with her boyfriend on top of everything else she was already dealing with.

Geoffrey glanced up at Tony, as if suddenly aware of his presence. He couldn't understand why Angela's housekeeper was suddenly butting in. And right now, Geoffrey felt like the proverbial fifth wheel—Tony and Angela were exchanging looks with each other—looks he couldn't comprehend. Nor could he understand why Angela had been shouting at him so angrily a few moments ago. He looked between Tony and Angela, hesitating before he spoke.

"Angela, Sweetums, if you need to rest this weekend and make a full recovery, then by all means. I don't want to tire you out", he told her in a soothing voice so that she wouldn't snap at him again.

"Thank you, Geoffrey. I will be resting, and working on my account", she added pointedly.

Geoffrey simply nodded, almost afraid of contradicting her. Right now, he didn't feel particularly welcome. "Well, I think I should be going and let you . . . rest. I'm glad you're feeling better, my Angel", he told her. He quickly gulped down his hot coffee, kissed his girlfriend on the cheek and let himself out, his usual self-assurance subdued.

Angela took a deep breath when he closed the door behind him. She wasn't in the mood for dealing with Geoffrey. Right now, the turbulent memories and emotions whirling about in her mind were making it difficult for her to remain calm. Plus, she did need to address Jim about his disgusting lies. She'd been too feverish and ill when she'd gotten wind of what he'd done. But now, she was feeling better and she had Tony on her side. She was going to let him have it!

XXX

Anger. Rage. Angela was on edge and she was mad. For so many years, she'd partly blamed herself for Lyle's attack. But not anymore. And for years, she'd put up with vulgar, sexist men in the workplace as something normal. Unpleasant but expected. Not anymore. She'd been wronged and she felt a deep visceral sense of injustice mounting within her. She paced the floor of her home office, unable to concentrate. It was Sunday afternoon and she'd rested sufficiently. The flu was gone and she felt much better physically, but the intense resentment and anger inhabiting her belly made her irritable and unable to sit still. Didn't help that she was also contending with a nasty case of PMS and cabin fever. She picked up her Fiber Kernels Cereal storyboard and examined it closely. It was smart and funny; a perfect example of her creativity and hard work. She was proud of her ideas including the colour scheme, sunshine yellow and sky blue. Perfect for a morning cereal. Mr. Harper, the client had loved it and had been ready to sign. They'd even shaken hands. Did a handshake have no meaning anymore? Angela was fuming. She flung her storyboard onto her desk and stomped out of her home office seeking retribution. Jim Peterson wouldn't know what hit him!

To Be Continued . . . (I figure that Angela reaming Jim in deserves its own separate chapter and I don't have time to write this weekend so I just posted what I already had for the time being!)