It's force of habit. That's the only way to explain it. Angela has become so much like my wife that when we check into the Moonlight Motel, I just automatically sign the register for "Mr. and Mrs. Micelli," like I would've done with Marie, ten or fifteen years ago. I don't even notice until Angela says, "Uh, Tony." Then I look down and see my signature.

I look up into her eyes, trying to figure out what to do now. I can't exactly cross out the "Mrs.," or change "Micelli" to "Weinberger." "Yes, Dear?"

"We should probably head up to our room."

I nod. "Yeah, long flight," I say.

The desk clerk hands me the key and I thank him. Then we head for Room 202.

And how exactly did we end up in another motel, this time in Charleston, South Carolina? Well, after we teetered on the edge of Ingridhood in Jamaica, we knew we had to find a time and place to be alone again, really alone. On the flight home, we agreed to do Spring Break in Florida, although probably not at a hotel full of college students. Somewhere more off the beaten path.

And we settled into several months of tense waiting. Some of the highlights along the way:

-Angela and I in Brooklyn, cat- and apartment-sitting for Mrs. Rossini, but only scoring at the bowling alley

-Angela and I reading D. H. Lawrence out loud to each other, and getting so turned on that we had to seek refuge in Dr. Seuss

-Me calling a radio shrink about my boss that I'm in love with (I think) and have it bad for (definitely), and then turning off the radio real quick when I caught Angela listening (it was replayed in the evening)

-Me hearing a rumor that Angela was having an affair with an employee, only to find out that Angela started the rumor herself and it was about me, "the closest thing she has to a man"

-Angela pinching my butt on the Boardwalk in Atlantic City

-Me getting so jealous of a guy making a pass at Angela that I really gave him "my killer serve" in our tennis match, and he dropped dead right on the court

-Me feeling so guilty about that that I went to see Father Marconi, and then lied about never having touched Angela (well, I've mostly been touching Ingrid), but admitted I have feelings for her

-Me getting over the guilt and giving her a very friendly tennis lesson, helping her with her strokes

-And then a Spring Break that didn't go according to plan.

Sam wanted to go to Fort Lauderdale for the class trip, so I went as chaperone. Mona encouraged Angela to go along, to distract me I later found out. And Angela did her best. When she was about to put suntan lotion on my bare back, we flirted about whether it was raining or she was drooling. But then it rained. And then later, when we were inside, she came on to me, sitting close on a couch and saying she finds the rain romantic. But I had us play gin rummy.

So you see, these aren't Ingrid City. They're more like the 'burbs. But I was having a real hard time not going to the city center.

Since we missed our chance to have Spring Break as our belated anniversary (it wouldn't have been appropriate for a chaperone), I thought maybe we'd just have to wait till the 27th anniversary rolled around, and skip the 26th. But then we tried dating another couple.

Let me rephrase that. Mona accused us of being like an old married couple, so we went out dancing, to prove her wrong. And we literally ran into another couple. I mean, not that we are a couple, but you know what I mean. Angela accidentally stepped on the guy's foot, but he was nice about it, so I asked them to join us at our table.

We seemed to have a lot in common with Brad and Jane. They work together and have known each other six years. (Well, five and a half for us, but close enough.) "And we can't keep our hands off each other." I changed the subject by asking Angela when Easter is. (April 15th as it happens.)

Brad confided in me that he wanted to ask Jane to marry him, and he explained why he hesitated so long. And it was a little too relatable. When Brad proposed to Jane and she said yes, Angela and I were so happy for them that we embraced and almost forgot ourselves.

So then we started double-dating and it was fun to have another couple to do things with. Except that what they wanted to do with us wasn't what we wanted to do with them. Brad gave Angela a very passionate kiss in our living room. Anthony doesn't even do that! And he's got much more right to.

Before Angela could tell me about it, Jane groped my ass on the dance floor! Ingrid only pinched me on the Boardwalk, and she had much more right to. They wrote lewd messages on our backs! I mean Jane on my back, Brad on Angela's.

We got them out of our lives, but they made us see how scared we are of commitment. I'm glad I didn't propose to her in Jamaica.

But we were definitely on the outskirts of Ingrid City. And then later that evening, when my jacket was off and we were relaxing reading on the couch, I told her I didn't get how Brad could just grab her and kiss her, take her by surprise like that.

We stood up and I thought we were gonna go upstairs to bed, separately I mean, and she just turned and grabbed and kissed me. I was so startled by the appearance of Ingrid, kissing all over my face as I dangled helplessly in her arms, that it took me a moment to start kissing back.

Then Mona called Angela's name and we stood straight again. Mona came in from the kitchen and told Angela her lipstick was smudged. She looked at me and said, "Yours, too."

Angela and I—or was it Ingrid and Anthony?—looked at each other, wondering what to do next. Mona just sat down and grinned.

"Well, Dear, aren't you going to fix your face?"

"Uh, yes, I'll wash off my makeup before I go to bed. Gee, look at the time. Goodnight, Mother. Goodnight, Anthony."

"Anthony? My, aren't we formal tonight?"

Angela looked like she could've kicked herself.

I very carefully said, "Goodnight, Angela."

Mona waited till Angela went upstairs before she asked, "So, Anthony, I hope I wasn't interrupting anything."

"Not a thing, Mona. Uh, I've got to go wind the grandfather clock upstairs."

"Have fun winding."

"Thank you, Mona." I love that woman like a mother, or like an aunt at least, but I swear there are times I want to strangle her.

When I went upstairs, the kids reminded me that the next day was the time change. (And April Fool's as it happened.) Then they serenaded me with Cher's "If I Could Turn Back Time," which was really annoying, especially since I was trying to Spring Forward.

Angela came out of her room, pulling on her robe. "What is going on out here? Why aren't you two asleep?"

"Aw, it's a Saturday, Mom. Can't we stay up late?"

Then Sam launched into the chorus of the Talking Heads' "Stay Up Late," and Jonathan joined in. Angela stared in disbelief and I was ready to kick the clock and maybe the kids down the stairs.

"What's next?" Jonathan asked eagerly.

" 'Time after Time'?"

" 'Time in a Bottle'?" Angela suggested, making me glare at her.

"Oo, 'Time Warp'!"

"Let's do the Time Warp again!" Jonathan began.

"This is not The Rocky Horror Picture Show!" I snapped. "Or a karaoke bar. It's time you went to bed—"

The three of them laughed because I said "time." Then I stalked into my room and slammed the door.

"Tony's right. Go to sleep, you two." They grumbled but they went, kissing her goodnight. A pause and then Angela knocked softly on my door. I hoped she wasn't looking for a goodnight kiss from me, because this was very much not the right time and place. "Tony?"

I reminded myself that this was not her fault, so I told her to come in. She hesitated and then entered, closing the door behind her.

"Well?"

She hesitated again and then came over to where I was sitting on the foot of the bed. She leaned down and whispered in my ear, "You're going to a baseball convention over Easter Weekend."

"I am?" I whispered back.

"Yes, and I'm going as your platonic date, just like in St. Louis."

"Oh, just like in St. Louis?"

"Well, with some differences."

"So where is this going to be?"

"I don't know!" she snapped. "I don't know anything about baseball."

"It's OK. I'll figure out something and then we can see if we can book a place for that weekend. We've got two weeks to plan."

"OK."

"Uh, you'd better get back to your room," I said, because her robe had come open and I could see right down the top of her nightie.

She grinned Ingridly but took pity on me and just kissed the top of my head. Then she said, "Goodnight, Anthony."

Not till I heard her bedroom door open and shut did I whisper, "Goodnight, Ingrid. See you soon."

In South Carolina as it happens. Why South Carolina? Why not? We're unlikely to run into anyone we know. As for why Charleston, why not? It's a little coastal city with enough to do and see if we wanted to be touristy. And why the Moonlight Motel? They're nice but affordable. And the main thing was, I was going to Ingrid City again, thank God!

We're so impatient to get to our room that we can't even wait for the elevator. And it's only one flight up, so we run up the stairs. I've got the door unlocked by the time she gets there.

"Come on, let's hit it, let's move it, let's do it!" I say, in the way I used to rally the troops in the morning when the kids were small.

She laughs and pants, "Aren't you supposed to carry me over the threshold?"

"Is that what you want, Ingrid Micelli?"

"Yes, Anthony Micelli." She's got I-dare-you eyes.

So I scoop her into my arms, making her giggle. I carry her in, kicking the door closed behind us.

I wonder if this means that Anthony and Ingrid are now married in the parallel universe. Is everyone going to be ready to get married before we are, even our alter egos? No, I think they're just pretending to be married to check into the motel.

I'm really tempted to throw Angela on the bed and climb right on top of her. But I've waited this long, I can wait a little longer. I can at least wait for foreplay.

So I gently set her on the edge of the bed and sit next to her.

"We should take off our shoes," she says.

"Well, it's a start."

She laughs. I kick mine off but I gently remove hers. I lean down and bring her closest leg up into my lap, bending it at the knee. Then I rub her foot, incorporating a little of what we learned from Jack, but mostly doing it Anthony style.

She murmurs happily. And then she starts playing footsies with the other foot! This time, there's no water to splash in my face.

"I can see your matching orange panties again, Ingrid." She isn't wearing a long sundress like in Jamaica but her dress is orange. It comes to just below the knee. Well, it did before it rode up.

"At least I'm not flashing you in front of a crowd this time."

"I appreciate that."

I want to kiss her but it would be tricky in this position. Then she moves her foot away and thanks me. She doesn't put the foot on the floor though. Instead she weaves her legs around mine, rubbing up and down, till I think I'll explode.

"Anthony," she asks, "have you been seeing anyone?"
"Define seeing."

"Have you been inside anyone?"
"You mean recently?"

"Yes."

How the hell am I supposed to answer that? I don't even know what's happening at Anthony's restaurant anymore.

She leans forward and whispers in my ear, "Tony, I haven't been with anyone since Geoffrey."

Oh. I'd wondered. There hasn't been anyone Grant-obvious, but who knows, you know?

"Tony, have you been inside anyone?"

"Does Ingrid count?"

"No, only Anthony is inside Ingrid."

"Oh, right. No, the last woman I had sex with was, believe it or not, Frankie."

"I believe you."

"Good, because it's true." Not that I haven't dated, but, well, look. It's not like Angela and I agreed to be exclusive or anything, but I've been so wrapped up in our sexual tension, and wondering when I'll see Ingrid again, that I can't really think about any other woman for very long.

"So that's three years for me, and about two and a half for you."

"Yeah, just about. Angela, what does this have to do with Anthony and Ingrid?"

"Have you been tested?"

"Tested?" For a second, I think she means in some class and then I realize. "Oh, tested. Well, yeah, actually."

"You have?" She sounds pleasantly surprised.

"Yeah, last Fall. See, there was this Safe Sex Day on campus. I mean, I didn't have 'safe sex.' I mean, I didn't have any sex. But I was tested. For everything. I'm clean." This is actually true. I didn't know for sure when I'd see Ingrid again, and we always use condoms, but I thought just in case.

She grins. "So am I."

I can't say I'm all that surprised. "Well, good."

"That means Ingrid and Anthony are, too."

"Well, yeah, I guess it does. Now can we get back to footsies?"

"I thought it does nothing for you."

"It does nothing for Tony. Anthony loves it."

"Oh, good."

So she gives me more footsies, with those warm toes of hers running along my legs.

Then she says, "Stan or Neil?"

"Excuse me?" Why is she talking about the guys I thought she might be having an affair with?

"Do you want me to stand or kneel?"

"Uh, that depends on what you're doing."

"A little of this, a little of that," she says, and then she stands up and I miss her legs right away, but then she kneels in front of me, undoes my belt, and soon we're definitely back to Anthony & Ingrid.

And, yeah, no condom. It's been awhile for that, because I was careful with Frankie.

"You have the sweetest lips, Baby! The fastest tongue! OH GOD, INGRID! You drive me crazy, you know that?"

After I come, I drop to the floor, push up her skirt, and take down her orange panties.

"Anthony, you don't have to reciprocate. I was just easing your tension a little."

"Baby, I love reciprocation with you!"

She giggles and then moans as I go see the city center. So beautiful! I think she needs some adoration, too.

She lies back and I tenderly cup her gorgeous tush, her long lovely legs over my shoulders and down my back.

"Mmm, there's some tension here, too. You need a lot of release."

"Release me, Anthony!"

"Oh, you want me to let go of you?" I tease.

She grips me with her legs. She's definitely not releasing me in that sense. After she comes, her hands gripping my hair, I gently lower her tush back to the floor. Her legs relax, her whole body relaxes.

"Better?" I ask, meaning does she feel better now?

"The best."

I grin.

She shakily gets to her feet and I keep smiling, enjoying the view from down here. "I need to lie down." She climbs back onto the bed.

"Hey, while you're up there, can you throw me down a pillow?"
"Um, why?"
"OK, let me be Tony for a moment."

"All right." She shakes herself as if trying to return to Angela-ism.

"Let's say somehow Mona and the kids find out we shared a room."

"Why would they find that out?"
"They found out about St. Louis, didn't they?"

"Well, yes. But what does that have to do with pillows?"

"I want to be able to say, 'Yes, but I slept on the floor.' "

She stares down at me. "You're kidding! You're going to sleep on the floor the entire weekend?"
"No, not the entire weekend. I just have to take a little nap down here, and then…."

She nods, getting it. "And then you'll have slept on the floor."

"Bingo."

So she tosses me down two pillows. "Happy napping, Tony."

"Thanks, Angela." And I curl up and drift off, oddly comfortable.