2

"Good Morning!"

Angela was in a good mood when she entered the kitchen.

Tony had sneaked out of their bed while she had still been sleeping. She loved to wake up in his arms and hated it to wake up in an empty bed. But on a weekday it happened quite often, because Tony always got up first to prepare breakfast. That hadn't changed much since he had been the hired housekeeper. Actually, he still was the housekeeper in a way. They had a cleaning lady who came to the house three times a week to do the laundry, she dusted, vacuumed, and shopped the groceries according to the list Tony made; she did whatever was necessary in the household and whatever Tony told her to do. The only thing he wouldn't assign to her was cooking. He loved to cook, he enjoyed it, it relaxed him, and it was something he could seduce his beloved with. Cooking could be very sensual, and dining by candlelight near a romantic fire even more. So Ruby, that was her name, was allowed to load and empty the dishwasher or to clean the kitchen floor, but she wasn't allowed to touch his appliances or any of his fancy kitchen gadgets. Which was okay for her, because she was a young woman in her mid-twenties, who had grown up with frozen pizza and convenience food and didn't even know that chicken soup didn't come out of a container but could be made from scratch.

By this morning, all the sorrow and sadness of the past evening had dissipated. After their talk Tony and Angela had snuggled on the couch for a while, listening to one of their favorite Dean Martin CDs. At some point, Angela had laid her head on Tony's lap and he had stroked her hair absent-mindedly, thinking about how their lives might have turned out, had he never gotten involved with Kathleen. Would they have ever started dating? For sure! Would they have married? Very likely! Would they have children? Probably, but how many? He couldn't tell. That was what life was like, you could never tell 'what if', Tony knew that contemplating about such things as 'what if' was a dead issue. Anyway, he had enough reasons to be very pleased with his life. He had two wonderful daughters and a great surrogate son, he had a meaningful, well-paid job, he lived in a cozy house, he was in good health, and most of all, he was in a wonderful relationship with the woman of his life. The only thing marring his happiness was the fact that Angela struggled so much with them not having children of their own. It was something he couldn't do anything about, and of course it was all his fault. For all in the world he had wanted to make her happy, but he had failed.

After a while, Dean Martin playing in an endless loop and singing 'Everybody Loves Somebody' for the third time, Angela had said up and had looked at him. "You know that I love you even if I'm not going to marry you, don't you?" she had said and Tony had nodded. Then she had given him a tender kiss, which Tony had reciprocated fervently. Throughout their relationship they had done quite a lot of kissing, even before they had become a couple. Both enjoyed the intimate touch established by a kiss on the mouth, their lips pressed together softly, tongues entwined, savoring the other's sweet taste. Nibbling at an earlobe or caressing the hollow of a neck could be almost as sensual and arousing as making love physically, actually is was part of their lovemaking. Not in the sense of foreplay but in the sense of abandoning oneself, of opening one's heart and soul to the other. It meant complete unison, just like the physical unison which sure enough followed afterwards most of the times, but not always. They felt like one when they kissed. Much so this time, when Angela had wanted to ensure Tony of her unconditional devotion even though she had refused to marry him.

Last night had been one they had finished things upstairs though. The difficult issue they had been dealing with after the proposal had simply built up too much tension which needed to be released somehow, and sex was a reliable method to release tension. After making love in a way which resembled their first time in the shed in Central Park very strikingly - an equal amount of tension had been released back then - they had been relieved and had fallen into a peaceful slumber spooned together in the bed they had been sharing for the last ten years.

In the morning, Angela felt reassured and light-hearted again. Tony understood her misgivings and was willing to postpone the matter. Maybe some day in the future she would be ready to marry him. Maybe when they had grandchildren to care for, when either Samantha or Jonathan had kids, she would be able to let go of her wish to have a child with him. A toddler sitting between them on the couch, calling them Nana and Gramps, might fill the void which was still so predominant for Angela. Spoiling their grandchild could compensate for the lack of opportunity to spill her motherly love on a child of their own.

"Good Morning, Beautiful," Tony said in return. "Wow, you look very spiffy today. Is there a special occasion?"

Angela was dressed very elegantly. She wore a tight white button-down shirt tucked into a dark blue pencil skirt which ended right above the knees. Her high heels matched in color and made her legs look longer and better-shaped than they were anyway. Around her neck Tony spied the pearl necklace he had given her for her 50th birthday.

"Ah well, there is this touchy client I have to charm the pants off today."

"I truly hope you only mean it in the figurative sense, Angela!" Tony loved to play the alpha male claiming his territory.

"Oh Tony, no need to be jealous. Mr Hofferman is way over 60, bald, and weighs at least twice as much as you. But his account is very important for the agency, so I have to deploy all my skills for this campaign. And with this power outfit, I'll make him increase his marketing budget in no time today!"

"I'm sure he'll eat out of your hands by noon." Tony looked admiringly at Angela. He was amazed by how this slight woman stood her grounds in the male-dominated business world day in day out. "I already poured you a glass of juice, and here's your coffee." He put a steaming mug on the table. "Can I enthuse you with a nutritious breakfast by any chance today?" Usually it was doomed to be a fruitless attempt to try coaxing her into eating something in the morning, but today he had the vague idea that she might have an appetite.

"Well, actually I am a little hungry. I could be enthused for some scrambled eggs and a slice of buttered toast."

"Scrambled eggs and toast coming up in a minute, Mylady," Tony announced solemnly before he turned around to the stove. He broke three eggs, put them into a hot frying pan and started whisking with an ear-to-ear grin on his face. 'Amazing that a bit of physical exercise at night brings about such an appetite,' he silently said to himself and still indulged in the reminiscence of how the last evening had ended when he suddenly felt two arms encircling his waist from behind. Angela clung to his back, and he could smell the alluring scent he was so familiar with.

"Thank you, Tony, for not being mad at me."

"Why should I be mad at you?"

"Because I've ruined your proposal. Because I'm still having troubles dealing with circumstances I can't change."

Tony pulled the pan off the stove. He turned around and his eyes connected with hers.

"Sweetheart, we've proven that we don't need a wedding certificate to be happy. And although a rejection is always had to swallow, I understand what you've been trying to tell me. Just let me know when you're ready to talk about it again, okay? I don't give up hope that someday we'll end up as Mr and Mrs Micelli," he raised an eyebrow and kissed her on the forehead, "but for now, ... breakfast is served!"

Angela took a seat at the round kitchen table. After a few sips of orange juice she tried the scrambled eggs, "Hmmm, delicious. You know, I should have breakfast more often."

"You're preaching to the choir here, Miss I-don't-have-time-for-breakfast! I'm telling you for how long now that I want you to take your time in the morning and have something proper to eat, instead of just gulping down coffee and juice?"

"I know, I know! It's just that usually I don't really have an appetite in the morning. I guess I'm so hungry today because we didn't have dinner last night."

"If you say so, ..." Angela didn't get the teasing undertone in Tony's voice. According to him, they had indeed had dinner last night; they had consummated their love.

He sat beside her and started picking her scrambled eggs with a fork of his own. He looked at his watch. "If Lynnie doesn't show up within the next five minutes, I'll go and check on her."

Tony hadn't completely uttered his sentence, when the swinging door was pushed open and his daughter scuffed into the kitchen.

"Ah, there you are! Good Morning, Sweetie."

"Good Morning, Dad. Morning, Angela," Lynnie replied bleary.

"You look tired, Lynnie. Didn't you sleep well?" Angela looked at her, a little worried. The teenager usually jumped out of bed in the morning, creating a good mood in the entire house. But today she looked weary and distraught.

"No, not really."

"Is anything wrong?" Angela could read in the girl's face that something afflicted her. "Can I help?"

"No, thank you Angela. Everything's alright. There were just some thoughts on my mind, ..."

"Thoughts?" Tony was alarmed. A fifteen-year-old having thoughts on her mind which wouldn't let her sleep? It had to be about boys! 'Not again,' he silently prayed. Making it through Sam's puberty had been a rough ride, he wasn't sure whether he would survive another one of these difficult phases. "What thoughts? Boys thoughts?"

"Daaaad!" Lynnie rolled her eyes. She exchanged a glance with Angela, who couldn't completely suppress a grin.

"If one of these half-baked dudes is giving you a hard time, let me know," Tony insisted.

"And what would you do, Dad? Go to him and tell him, 'Leave my Lynnie alone!'? I can take care of myself! I'm not a baby anymore."

She sounded a bit ruder than she had intended. She knew that her father only looked out for her and wanted to protect her. But like every pubescent teenager she revolted against interfering adults and wanted to become independent of her parents, plus she was still disturbed about what she had heard the night before.

Her Dad had married her Mom although he had been in love with Angela. Her Dad, who always cultivated perfect manners. Who was so overly correct with everything. Who had grounded her umpteen times because she hadn't behaved right. Her Dad, the light tower of decency and honor! But she wouldn't call getting involved with two women simultaneously an acceptable behaviour, ... or smart, ... or honorable. Not at all! He most certainly would give her a piece of his mind if she dated two boys at the same time. Well, he would give her a piece of his mind even if she dated only one! He always gave her a piece of his mind.

"I'm your father, Lynnie. It's my job to take care of you," he pouted.

"Tony, relax," Angela seconded Lynnie, "let her have her breakfast in peace. I'm sure that if she needs your help or advice she'd come to you. Right, Lynnie?"

"Right."

Lynnie appreciated Angela's help. At times, she was the only one who was able to keep her father's overprotective mind in check. But this morning Lynnie felt uncomfortable in Angela's presence. And it dismayed her, for until today she had never felt uneasy when Angela was around. Quite the contrary! She had liked Angela from the moment she had seen her in the door frame the day her Dad had taken her to Fairfield for the first time. She had been five years old and had been dying to meet her father's former best friend. She had been even more eager to see the house he had told her about. When she had been asked a few months later whether she wanted to move into that house to live there, she had been thrilled. Angela and she had instantly found a common ground, and of course the child hadn't seen any reason why they shouldn't. Now Lynnie figured that it had to be quite hard for Angela. She had learned last night that herself was the reason her father had broken off with Angela all these years ago. Angela had been in love with him, and he had married her mother because she had been expecting her. She was at fault for Angela having been sad and lonely, while her father had cared for a family he had never planned to have.

So it was all the more surprising to Lynnie that Angela and she had gotten along so well all these years. The teenager felt a strong connection to her adult friend, but on the other hand she didn't want to be disloyal to her mother. She wasn't the caring and nurturing mother she had always wanted her to be - Angela was rather that kind of woman - but she was her biological mother after all, their connection was special. Wasn't blood said to be thicker than water? It was her obligation as a daughter to side with her mother, wasn't it? Angela had Tony, so she should back up Kathleen, right? If there only wasn't the nagging question at the back of her mind whether she had never been more than just a means to an end for her mother. Whether she had only been born in order to lock her father into marriage.

"Lynnie? Honey?" Lynnie was pulled out of her ruminations by Angela's compassionate voice. She had laid her hand on the girl's lower arm and squeezed it gently, "You seem a bit distracted."

"I'm fine. Just a bit tired, that's all." She forced a smile to appease the two adults scrutinizing her.

"Okay." Tony for his part was pleased. He put a plate with scrambled eggs in front of his daughter, and they all sat at the table in silence for a while.

"Dad, can I spend the weekend at Mom's?"

Angela looked up and Tony almost choked on his toast. "Huh?"

"Can I sp-"

"I heard what you said, Lynnie. I just don't understand! We have plans for the weekend, remember? We said we wanted to go and see the Mets and pay Mrs Rossini a visit," Tony reminded her.

"I know, Dad, but can't we do that some other time?" Lynnie asked.

"We can, but why is it so important to see you mother exactly this weekend? Can't it wait until the next, like it's been planned? You know how she hates it when her plans are knocked over. I keep on telling her to stick to the visiting arrangements all the time, and now you want me to change them?"

"I have to talk to her."

"What about?"

"Something personal. None of your business."

"None of my business? Since when are your personal affairs none of my business?" Tony was surprised and also hurt. Lynnie and he had always been very close, like two peas in a pod. They had been a great team, welded together from early on, and the way she slowly emancipated herself from him felt like an aching splinter in his heart.

"Tony," Angela felt it was time to intervene. He acted like a wounded animal and might say something he would regret. "Why don't you let her check with Kathleen whether it's okay if you switch the weekends. I'm sure you can visit Mrs Rossini some other day, and it won't be the last time the Mets play at Shea Stadium."

"Okay," Tony finally grunted. He knew that it was inevitable that his daughter eventually kept him at a distance, but that she wanted to talk to Kathleen about something personal she didn't want to share with him caused him almost physical pain. What could possibly be so urgent that it couldn't wait another week? Until today, Lynnie had rather tried to procrastinate meetings with her mother than antedating them. But he had learned from prior experiences that pubescent teenagers had to be left alone at times, that they had a right of privacy and of parents not interfering. So he bit his tongue and let her do what she wanted to do.

"Thank you, Dad." Lynnie put her fork on her empty plate and got up. "I have to go now. I'll call Mom when I'm back from school. Have a nice day you two. Bye."

"Bye, Sweetheart," Tony called after her but Lynnie had already exited the kitchen. He glanced at Angela, worried and doubtful. "What was that all about?"

"I don't know, Tony. I honestly don't know."