Chapter 6

"Timothy", Angela was surprised, "what are you doing here? Why aren't you at practice?"

She hadn't expected to run into one of Tony's players, knowing that the long Thursday afternoon training session was scheduled for the same time, followed by an extensive tactical briefing. Tony rarely made it home before 6:30 on these evenings. How come that Timothy, one of his best players, was sauntering about on this farmers' market among all these housewives?

"Didn't the Coach tell you? He kicked me out of the team. My last literature exam was a downright F!" Timothy only shrugged his shoulders. "Jane Austen ... who reads this stuff?"

With this, Timothy had come to the wrong person of course; Angela loved Jane Austen, had read all of her novels dozens of times and had always immersed herself in the captivating, romantic world her most favorite author was able to create.

"Jane Austen? You don't like Jane Austen? She's one of the most extraordinary writers I can think of. Maybe someone has to read you one of her stories properly, thereby making you feel what a wonderful storyteller she is", Angela raved. 'You could read out the instruction leaflet to my TV set and I would still think it's wonderful', went through Timothy's mind.

He didn't say that aloud of course, and he didn't tell her either that he had very deliberately failed that literature exam. He knew that the Coach would bar him from the team. He loved to play baseball but the prospect of being able to catch Angela while her long-term fiancé spent hours on a baseball field was far too alluring. He knew that she went to the market on Thursdays and had waited for her in front of their apartment, hidden in a back alley. When she had stepped out of the building it had taken his breath away. She looked so good! She wore a tight jeans and a short beige wool coat with a matching hat. The weather in Iowa could still be quite chilly at the end of April, and on this day a brisk wind was blowing through the streets of Branford, which disheveled her shoulder-length blond hair. She carried a shopper basket in her right hand and seemed to be in the best of moods.

Timothy had never come to terms with the girls of his age. They were simply silly, they were giggling all the time and they were so insecure about the male sex that they were rather unnerving than attractive in his eyes. Years ago, he had been afraid that he was gay, when his friends started holding hands with their girlfriends and eventually bragged about how they had dragged them to bed. He knew that most of their stories were exaggerated and rather wishful thinking than the truth, but the perception of taking a giggling seventeen-year old to bed hadn't turned him on at all. Then one day he had realized that among the elder female students there were indeed some who stirred his blood. They didn't have a pimply skin or braces, they knew how to discreetly apply make-up and were familiar with the rituals of dating. He bet they also knew how to make a man happy in bed. But sure enough, they only looked down on him, on the lower grade teenager. That hadn't changed until he began to engage more excessively in sports, doing a lot of weight-lifting and running. His physique had changed, his shoulders had become broader, his chest more muscular. He had been more self-confident and bolder, and all of a sudden there had been more female admirers than he could handle.

But this woman was something totally different; she was in a league by herself. She was a lady, she had class, was sophisticated, mature, self-sufficient, stunningly beautiful and so damn sexy. Every time she had picked up the Coach after their training and had kissed him gently on the cheek, Timothy's stomach had convulsed. Bit by bit, Angela had turned into a secret and insatiable yearning, and then, one night, he had found her on that bench of the supermarket's parking lot all alone - what a stroke of fate! He kept on asking himself what had disturbed her that much that night. Had the Coach alienated her with this coarse manner of his he showed once in a while? Possible. He was this type of man women easily fall for, Timothy could imagine, with his Italian macho behavior and good looks. He was fit and had a well-toned body for his age. Just like Timothy himself, but he was young! In his early twenties, in his last year at college. And this woman had turned his head.

"I think it would be foolish to turn down your offer. As always, I've bought too much, and now I don't know how to get all this stuff home. Just let me buy some of these beautiful flowers, then we'll go. We can have a cup of coffee at our place and talk a bit about Jane Austen, what do you say? Angela smiled at him invitingly.

Timothy nodded in approval. "I'd be glad to!" He took the overflowing shopper basket from her and brushed her hand as if by accident. 'How warm and soft this hand is!' he noted. Angela didn't realize any of this. She just appreciated that he carried her heavy basket, and the prospect of schmoozing a bit about Jane Austen cheered her up even more.

As soon as they had reached the apartment, Angela maneuvered Timothy into the kitchen which he already knew because he had been sitting there with Tony on his first attendance at this place.

"Put the basket on the table, Timothy. Thanks a lot! I don't know what I would've done without you!"

"Any time, Angela." By this time, he didn't have any difficulties calling her by her first name; quite to the contrary, it created a closeness he would be too pleased to deepen furthermore. But he had to be cautious. After all, she was in a relationship with another man, in a long - very long - relationship, they were even engaged. The fact that they weren't married yet gave him hope though. If they were so much in love for such a long time, there had to be something standing in their way to the altar. He couldn't come up with a convincing idea what it might be but he would find out, he was sure about that, for this might be the entrance into her heart.

"What do you prefer? Coffee or tea?" Angela asked and pulled the young man out of his thoughts.

"Coffee is fine", he replied. Coffee was more 'grown-up' than tea.

Angela switched on the coffee machine, the telephone rang at the same time. She excused herself, then lifted the receiver of the kitchen phone and motioned Timothy to sit down at the corner bench.

"Hello?" Angela answered the phone. "Jack? You? What's up? Is there a problem?"

Timothy acted as if he was looking out of the window disinterestedly but instead he listened closely to what she talked about with the unknown caller. It sounded very business-like and it seemed as if the caller asked for her advice, as if it was she who decided things.

"Jack, let me talk to Mr. Goldstein. I have his number and will call him later. A contract is a contract. We'll be happy to fine-tune his campaign a bit, but if he wants an entirely new concept, he has to pay for it. I will make him understand, leave it to me. I'll call you later. Bye."

With this, she put the receiver back, went over to the coffee machine and poured two mugs, then she sat opposite Timothy. "Milk? Sugar?"

"No thanks. I like my coffee black and strong." Masculine. Mature.

"Okay, I hope it's strong enough then", Angela said, putting her lips to the mug.

"Perfect", Timothy assured her, then he asked her about the telephone call. "I didn't want to eavesdrop but that sounded quite serious."

"That? Oh no, just the usual quarrels with clients. They always try to get more than what they have paid for", Angela played down the issue. She would put Mr. Goldstein in his place. She was experienced enough to know how to handle clients so hat they didn't take her for a fool on the one hand, but neither transferred to another agency on the other. Angela had told Jack, one of her vice presidents, he could call her any time in case of an emergency; and Mr. Goldstein was an emergency. He had contracted out an account worth several millions of dollars, and they had already developed a few very successful campaigns for his little motel chain. The agency had to keep this account under all circumstances, and it would. She would take care for it; in fact, she still was the president.

"What sort of clients do you have?" Timothy was curious. So, she was a working woman and not a housewife, he hadn't know until now. It made her even more attractive.

"Advertising clients."

"You're working in an advertising agency?"

"Uhm, ... I own it, actually. I established it some years ago", Angela explained.

"Oh wow!" Timothy was impressed. That was where her self-secure demeanor came from, this aura of strength and invulnerability. Although ... the night he had been sitting with her in that diner she hadn't appeared invulnerable at all but very hurt instead. "You have an advertising agency? Don't tell me in New York!"

"Yes indeed, in New York." Angela nodded. "Small but mighty", she added proudly.

"And you're directing it from here?" Timothy couldn't hide his surprise.

"No, I've transferred the direction to my mother and my two vice presidents and only intervene when necessary, like with Mr. Goldstein who thinks we would draft a new campaign for him without extra charge."

Angela shook her head. She never felt as useless and superfluous when it came to her agency like she felt here in Branford, being nothing else than the professor's spouse. In her work she was strong and street smart, always the mistress of the situation, she could pull the chestnuts out of every fire any time and never let insecurity get the better of her.

"And that works?" Timothy hardly believed what he had just heard. There she had such an exposed position and such an interesting job and wasted her time in this hick town to prepare the Coach's breakfast and buy flowers on the market? 'She must be bored to death', he sympathised. Maybe that was where her intrinsic sadness came from? She knew well how to hide it, but this particular night, their night, he had seen it. When she had admitted that she didn't know whether Branford was the right place for her, she had shown him, and then she had ended their talk abruptly.

"Well, it works alright. I drop in at the office occasionally and discuss the most important issues with my staff. These are all good people, they get along quite well without me for a while."

Although this was correct, she always had a hard time leaving the agency after such meetings for another indefinite period of time. Her office had been like her home for her and she missed it every day a bit more. She missed being asked by her staff for advice or for throwing in her abundant creativity, she missed contributing to the development of a new marketing strategy, and meeting with fellow ad execs for business lunches where they exchanged the latest news and gossip about their industry. She felt cut off from her old world, and like an emigrant who didn't really feel at home in his new country and therefore still kept his former homeland's citizenship, she clung to her agency.

"Gee, maybe you could help me with my marketing thesis then and not only with literature", suddenly came to Timothy's mind. That was too good to be true! "Marketing is one of my majors, and to be honest, ... I'm not very good at it either. If I fail this as well, I might even lose my scholarship."

"I'd be happy to help you, Timothy, no problem at all. What is your thesis about?" Angela's interest had been aroused.

"We have to evaluate a given campaign with respect to its strengths and weaknesses. Then we have to draft a new, improved concept." Timothy had already struggled with it. He could tell what he didn't like about it but he lacked the necessary creativity and power of imagination to make it better. If he could get professional help, moreover from this woman, it would be like winning the lottery. He would have a reason to see her regularly and end up with a terrific marketing thesis to top all of it. It was beyond all question for Timothy that Angela was very good in what she did, if not sublime.

"That shouldn't be a problem", she assured him and asked, "what kind of product are we talking about?" Angela had already switched on the business mode.

"Soap." Timothy grimaced and rolled his eyes. "Boring."

"Oh my, I don't know how many campaigns I've already invented for soap. And they were never boring! I'm sure we ... uhm, you can come up with something convincing." 'As long as it's not two women mud wrestling', Angela thought by herself and couldn't suppress a slight smile appearing on her face, thinking about Tony's idea for a soap commercial in one of her evening classes. "You won't fail marketing, Timothy, this much I can guarantee!"

"Great! When do we start?" Right now preferably.

"Let me think ... Tony and I are going to the mountains on the weekend but we can start on Monday, if you like. How about half past three? Just bring your stuff and we'll have a look at it together and see what needs to be improved", Angela proposed.

"That's super, Angela! I'm awfully grateful." Timothy leaned across the table and squeezed Angela's hand, he wouldn't leave this opportunity untaken. She smiled at him and exactly at this very moment the kitchen door swung open and Tony suddenly stood in front of them. "Honey, I managed to co-", was all that passed his lips as he was too surprised to see Timothy sitting at his kitchen table. What was he doing here? "Uhm, ... to come home earlier, I wanted to say!" he concluded.

Angela and Timothy both turned their heads towards him, Timothy pulled his hand back jumpily. His heart was in his mouth and he had a sudden attack of sweating. Did the Coach notice anything? He had to be cautious, he bet this man wasn't a person to be trifled with when it came to his fiancée. Angela on the contrary wasn't conscience-stricken at all. What for anyway? She was exhilarated to see Tony that early. For the second time on this day he had surprised her with his attendance - if that wasn't a good sign for their relationship!

"Tony! It's wonderful that you're home already!" She jumped up and flung her arms around his neck.

"Our next game is against the Wesleyan Tigers. We've played them a hundred times at least, we know them inside out, so there was no need of a long tactical briefing today. We beat them last time, even if only my a narrow margin, so this weekend we're just going to repeat it. Unfortunately, we lack our best man!" He looked at Timothy and sighed. "Hi Timothy. What's up? Have you already begun to write your paper about Jane Austen? You could compensate with it for your lousy exam and return to the team. We need you!" Turning to Angela he added, "I had to suspend Timothy from the team because he had turned in a really poor literature exam. I've never seen something as bad as this. I've warned you, Son!" he justified the expulsion in a reproachful tone.

"Not yet Coach, but now I have someone who helps me with it." He looked at Angela because he didn't know whether she wanted to keep their collaboration a secret. He would've liked it that way. To meet with her surreptitiously, without letting the Coach in on it, would make the whole thing even more exciting. But of course Angela didn't have any reason not to tell Tony that she was going to help Timothy with his curricular obligations.

"Why didn't you tell me that Jane Austen was on your curriculum in literature? You know how much I love her novels. Timothy told me that he had been barred from the team. We met coincidently at the market. Luckily for me because I had once again shopped too much, and my basket must have weighed tons. He carried it all the way home for me", she told him.

"I see, once again at the right spot at the perfect time, Timothy?" It somehow bothered Tony that Timothy had helped Angela out of a mess twice in only a few days, but he couldn't really tell why. The way this young man had looked at him when he entered the kitchen had displayed more than just surprise. But what else?

"You're right Coach. The world is small, especially here in Branford." Timothy didn't know what else to say to explain why he had been at the farmers' market. He felt uneasy with Tony being present. It might have been the sense of guilt at the bottom of his stomach which preyed on his conscience. He tried to pinch his Coach's girlfriend after all. And as a matter of fact, he liked him. He was a great coach and great teacher. A teacher who really cared for his students, who really wanted to teach them something they could benefit from for the rest of their lives. There weren't so many teachers of this kind. Timothy also perceived that Tony made every effort to support him in particular, that he saw a promising baseball talent in him but also gave him credit to get a college degree. That was much more than his own father had ever believed he would be able to accomplish.

"I'm going to help Timothy with his Jane Austen paper, Tony. Before you know what's happening, he will be back in your team!" Angela beamed at him. She was so thrilled to finally have something meaningful to do. She truly had knitted enough afghans and painted enough sunsets. She longed for using her brain once again and curricular work was exactly meeting her needs. When she had been a college student, she loved to dive into the topics of her papers, to browse through the shelves at the library, so read up on a new subject and write down her thoughts and ideas later on. This passion of hers had made her a loner, for her fellow students went dancing or partying instead. But her ambition and diligence hadn't been detrimental to her personal development; her successful professional path served as a proof.

"Well, Timothy, you're one lucky guy. Angela is brilliant in projects like these." 'You can say that again, Coach', Timothy would've wished to say, 'Lucky me!'

"And I can also support him with his marketing thesis. He has to draft a campaign for soap. Does that ring a bell, Honey?" She pinched Tony's upper arm lovingly and showed him a teasing grin.

Tony laughed loudly. "Oh yeah, the girls in the mud! Wasn't one of my most splendid achievements." Tony and Angela looked at each other, both knowing what they were alluding to.

Timothy observed them. Of course, he didn't have any idea what they were talking about, and that made him angry. He was jealous! Jealous of the history which connected them. Jealous of their long-term relationship. Jealous of their physical closeness; they were standing beside each other, Angela had her hand on Tony's shoulder and he had his arm around her waist. They only hadn't kissed yet - at least he had been spared this! Well, they probably would as soon as he had left through the front door. Darn!

"I guess I better be going", Timothy interposed, "I don't want to disturb you furthermore. I'll be here next Monday at half past three, Angela, like we agreed upon. Have a nice weekend in the mountains", he managed to say. "Goodbye, Coach."

"You're not disturbing at all, Timothy. Wait, let me walk you to the door." Angela opened the kitchen door and followed Timothy.

Tony remained in the kitchen alone. He sat down at the table and recalled the last minutes. There was nothing wrong with Angela's plan to help Timothy with his papers. To the contrary, the sooner Timothy found his way back into the team, the better. He was a very valuable and almost irreplaceable player; they could forget all about moving to the next division without him. With Angela's help though, he would be able to exploit his full potential, Tony knew. He himself had benefited more than once from her energetic support and enthusiastic motivation. She had pushed him through college, she could push Timothy through as well. But there had been something hanging in the air in that kitchen. Some tension between him and Timothy which hadn't been there before.

What was happening here?