Looks like this chapter is going to be split into at least two parts, this section is now around 8,000 words. I have no idea how long the next section will be. Some notes on American football that might be necessary: One team's offense lines up opposite the other team's defense; the invisible line between them is called the line of scrimmage. After the ball is snapped to the quarterback, several things can happen; a very bad result happens when the quarterback cannot make a play before the opposing team's defense gets to him. If the quarterback is tackled still holding the ball, it is called a sack. A worse result is if the quarterback (or any other player) loses the ball; that's called a fumble.
Hellidays Part 1
The train ride to work was no longer safe. Angela now dreaded the trip as she was her mother's captive; they were caged together in a metal tube as the world outside flew by oblivious to any upheaval in Angela's life. It seemed a lifetime ago that conversations on the way to work dealt with the slate of activity for the upcoming workday. Now Angela had taken to burying herself in the files she carried in her briefcase; it was a ruse, they both knew it. Angela could feel her mother's microscopic scrutiny bearing down on her as she bent over her work. Mona was frustrated with her daughter's stubbornness, but until she could convince Angela to concede there was a problem, there was only one thing she could do: harass her daughter relentlessly until she caved in.
Mona tried a different tactic every day; she prodded, cajoled and wheedled, but Angela never wavered in her conviction that everything was normal in her relationship with Tony. Mona rolled her eyes at the absurdity of Angela's irrational belief, mentally dismissed it and settled in to play their daily game.
Mona, being Mona, never bothered with subtlety, she often pinned Angela with a look that would cause fear in others, then jumped in with her questioning. Angela did her best to ignore her, after a lifetime of dealing with that look, it held no fear for her. Mona forged ahead anyway, often starting a so-called conversation with words to the following effect:
"Angela, what's bothering you?" Definitely to the point.
"Nothing." One of the biggest lies ever told.
"You can't get away with lying to me; I'm your mother."
"I'm not lying to you." Another lie she couldn't get away with.
Angela's repeated denials only made Mona more curious and suspicious as to what was bothering her daughter. The script didn't change much day in and day out, but sometimes she would try to trick Angela with an innocent, "how's Tony?"
Angela didn't fall for it, she answered, "you just saw him, you know he's fine." Then she pretended to be interested in her newspaper or portfolio or whatever piece of paper she happened to have nearby.
Mona wouldn't let it go that easily, "You want to talk about what's bothering you?"
"There's nothing bothering me."
"I disagree."
"It's a free country."
"Whenever you want to talk about this, I'll listen. Until then I hope you are discussing it with Dr. Bellows." Angela flinched which gave Mona some hope that Angela was indeed discussing this with a trained professional; it didn't deter her from her daily inquisition, but it did sooth her anxiety over her daughter a little. If she wasn't talking to her; or Tony, at least she was talking to someone. Outwardly she seemed to be her normal self; inwardly she was very worried about Angela. Her baby was in pain and she'd turned away from all those she loved the most. She'd been shunning Tony for reasons known only to herself, shutting him out of her life as best she could. Why? She knew her daughter loved Tony, so why was she suddenly acting like he had The Plague?
Sometimes Mona would skip the pesky and relentless questions and make a pesky and relentless statement instead. No warm-up, no preamble; she'd just jump in and tersely say, "Angela, you can deny all you want; but something has changed in your relationship with Tony; and not the change for the better I'd always hoped for." Angela did her best to ignore such digs; acknowledging she had ever had any sort of dreams concerning a future relationship with Tony would only add fuel to the fire of her mother's suspicions. Angela had started down the road of trying to forget she ever had any dreams of a future with Tony. It seemed so ridiculous to her that she had ever thought it possible in the first place.
Another day Mona would invoke the whole family as inquisitor in order to break through her daughter's denials, "I see it, Tony sees it, the kids see it. What gives?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Even though she knew her mother didn't buy that answer, she had to pretend she did; otherwise she'd burst into tears. That particular line of questioning bothered Angela more than the others. She often fooled herself into believing no one noticed her change in behavior, but her mother constantly reminding her that she, Tony and the kids had all noted the difference and were giving her a wide berth until she wrestled with whatever demons she was wrestling with only upset her more. She was not only losing Tony, she was losing her family too.
Did the kids really see a change? She hoped not, she didn't expect the kids to be affected by her distance from Tony. It wasn't as though they were getting a divorce; they couldn't, they weren't married; ever, no matter what the state of South Carolina declared. Jonathan had already been through one divorce, he didn't need to go through another. He would always have Tony and she would always have Sam; no matter what happened or didn't happen between Tony and herself. A terrible realization shattered her thoughts: what if she did lose Sam by distancing herself from Tony? That couldn't happen, could it? Not now, they knew each other too well; they were close, they were family, no matter what. Angela couldn't bear the thought of losing Sam. There couldn't be such fallout from this decision, there just couldn't.
Mona was frustrated with her daughter's stubbornness, she talked with Tony, she talked with the kids, she even went to talk to some of her former professors; but no one had a solution other than letting Angela take the lead on this. The teachers did offer to refer Angela to a therapist, but Mona dismissed that as Angela already had a therapist. Mona conjured up several elaborate plans to break into Dr. Bellows' office and search for any notes concerning Angela, but had to reject them all as unworkable and unprofessional. She had to be patient; and when, and she hoped it was a 'when', not an 'if,' Angela wanted to talk about it, she would be there to listen; and kick her butt back home where it belonged.
It surprised Angela that her mother made only one real attempt a day at cracking her façade; somehow she expected her to be more relentless. For a while Angela was even worried that her mother would come to her room in the middle of the night and start pestering her. Upon reflection Angela realized how silly that thought was; her mother always had much more interesting plans for the night; she wouldn't waste her time on Angela. Mona confined herself to one chance of extracting whatever information she could, then she'd mercifully let the subject drop and start flirting with a fellow passenger on the train, thereby creating those more interesting plans for the evening.
The train ride home was always easier as her mother was either staying in town overnight or had taken a much earlier train to Connecticut, thereby granting her the only peace she had been able to find recently. The train was full of strangers; she didn't have to talk to anyone, she wasn't surrounded by Tony's presence. It was a safe place for her, but she was getting to the point where she hated disembarking in Fairfield. It was a sad moment when she realized she hated going home. The train was her oasis in the desert of her relationship with Tony; leaving it meant having to see the worry in his eyes when she came through the door. There were so many times when she saw wounded apprehension in his eyes; but why was he wounded? It wasn't as if his heart was in a million pieces. Maybe he was worried about finding a date to the Winter Formal? Or maybe he had a big paper to write and had run out of number two pencils? She didn't know, she didn't care and she certainly wasn't going to ask him and find out.
At least she told herself she didn't care. There was a part of Angela aching, screaming to be let out; the part of her that knew the truth. It begged her to talk with Tony, let him know how much she was hurting; begging her to say, "I love you" to him, but she bound that part of herself up and threw it into the darkness of her heart. It festered, demanding to be heard, but she wouldn't grant it the opportunity to speak. She ignored it as best she could and forged on with her "Forget Tony" campaign. However, it wasn't so easy to get rid of this part of herself; it would not be ignored and had its own way of making itself known. Sometimes on the train ride home Angela would try to lose herself by staring out the window; but she saw none of the passing trees, buildings or train platforms. There was just darkness; the darkness mirrored the emptiness of her heart.
The one thing she did see was her reflection in the window. It was a strange reflection as it didn't mirror the Angela sitting in the seat. This shadow in the window was the representation of the bewildered state of Angela's heart. Shadow Angela was the epitome of a wallflower; wan, retiring, her hair dangling in her face unkempt, her clothes loose and unflattering. Her head was always hanging down. One arm was limply dangled at her side while she crossed the other over her and held onto her elbow. She was very lonely. Angela had taken to calling her "Heartbroken Angela." This was not one of her more creative appellations, but as she was only acknowledging this aspect of herself to herself, she didn't feel she was worthy of anything special attention, so she didn't bother with cleverness. Plus, it was appropriate.
Heartbroken Angela was haunted by loneliness; she used to have a fantasy lover to play with, but Angela had banished him from her mind when she had started to eradicate Tony from her heart. Now she flitted around Angela's psyche looking for solace, hoping Angela would give her beloved another chance; she begged Angela to talk with Tony, but Angela ignored her.
Angela tried to lock away her heartbroken self and throw away the key. Looking at this version of herself made her feel inadequate. She considered Heartbroken Angela to be weak for falling in love with Tony in the first place. She should have been stronger, not lost her heart. She should have put the brakes on this so-called relationship years ago. She should have started to try and get over Tony the second she realized she was in love with him. She should have recognized his pity for her sooner. She should have spent more time outside the home; stayed away from him, but spending more time away from home would have meant spending even less time with the kids, and how could she have made such a terrible sacrifice?
She looked at this shell of herself and scoffed at her for her jejune ideas. How could she have believed there was a future for them? "Pathetic!" she inwardly screamed at the heartbroken image in the window. She was constantly angry with herself for falling in love with Tony. The train rides home often turned into silent arguments between Angela and her heartbroken reflection in the window.
"How was I to know things would turn out so badly?" Heartbroken Angela tried to defend herself.
"How were you to know?" she answered incredulously, "you come from two different worlds. You were never compatible. You could have looked at your past; learned from it. You have no luck with men. Face it, you aren't good with men. Stick with work, it's where you belong." Angela had no compassion for herself.
"All I did was fall in love. How can you fault me for that?"
"It was stupid."
"You didn't think so at the time, you used to be happy about it."
"I was stupid. I succumbed to what? A man who took care of me..." She closed her eyes; it was true, Tony always had taken good care of her. Angela weakened a little bit in her self-haranguing. She lost her heart to a good man, she shouldn't be so hard on herself about it. Tony had gifted her some of the best moments of her life; a late night prom for two, a baseball game, a Christmas dance. Then the hurt would come rushing back; Heartbroken Angela would look at her with eyes so sad they tortured her. She'd lost her best friend, literally. If she looked like that to everyone else it was no wonder they kept trying to find out what was wrong with her.
"I shouldn't have let him into my heart," Angela said as though it was the final word on the matter.
"He's a wonderful guy," the part of her she tried to annihilate offered, trembling. "He's an excellent father, he makes you laugh..."
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" she slammed her eyes shut and placed her hands over her ears to try and drive away deluded Heartbroken Angela. It didn't work, Heartbroken Angela looked at her, accusing her of causing this mess in the first place. If any other passengers on the train noticed Angela's actions, and most did not as they were engrossed in their own worlds, they thought Angela was trying to ward off a headache. In a way, she was.
The tables were turned, Heartbroken Angela was going to have her say, "it's your fault we're in this mess. You've been flirting with him for years; you should have realized sooner that it was a hopeless cause. You really think a guy like Tony would consider a wallflower like you?"
"No."
"No, of course not. So don't blame me for loving him; it's all I know how to do. I miss him."
"I miss him too. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ever thought there was a chance for us. He'll be gone soon enough and we can get on with our life – without him."
She looked at Heartbroken Angela again, her bedraggled self had nothing verbal to say to her, but her eyes told her that getting on with life without Tony was going to be a bit of a challenge. Angela sighed and turned away from the train window; the newspaper wasn't much of a distraction, but at least it dragged her away from her own troubles.
Angela doubled her appointments with her therapist, who repeatedly asked her to have Tony come to a session or two, or twenty; with her. Dr. Bellows was certain the only way Angela's trauma could be resolved was by talking with Tony. They'd created this mess together and they were the only two who could fix it; all of her degrees and all the king's horses couldn't put these two back together again. From all the work she had been doing with Angela through the years, she knew that Tony was key to Angela's psyche. Talking to Dr. Bellows alone about the end of her non-relationship with Tony was not going to resolve the situation. She encouraged Angela to discuss her thoughts with Tony, find out what he was thinking; but Angela was adamant; she would not cross that line.
Delving into her work was paying off for Angela; the pain she felt when she tore her heart away from Tony was becoming less acute. It was still there, but it was muted and easier to ignore; except for those moments when she'd suddenly burst into tears for no reason, or felt like she was drowning as she walked down the street, or a fond memory of Tony waltzed its way through her mind, or shred of love clawed its way through her barriers, forcefully reminding her that she still loved Tony very much, no matter how hard she'd tried to banish him from her heart. She felt defeated when a moment like that came over her; like she'd love him for the rest of her life whether he was part of it or not. She could just see herself 20 years in the future still waiting for him to come back even though he'd moved on long ago. She hated herself for her perceived weakness. She hated the situation she was in and she hated herself for being crazy enough to fall in love with Tony in the first place.
She missed him; missed their friendship, missed having someone to talk to. He'd always been there to help her through the rough times. Now if something wasn't working in an account she had no one far enough outside the situation to help her through. She had no one to turn to for pep talks; no one whose smile could instantly brighten her day. Tony's warmth used to shield her from the coldness of the City, she'd carry his strength with her through tough client meetings and lost accounts. She had to continually remind herself that she'd conquered New York City just fine before she met Tony Micelli, and she'd be just fine without him too. She'd do it her way; this was not the best mantra she could have chosen as all it did was remind her of Frank Sinatra, which sent her spiraling back down her own mythological hill in Sisyphean defeat.
Angela had never had much respect for Sisyphus. She'd always subscribed to the philosophy of 'attitude is everything'; she thought he needed to adjust his attitude toward his constant rock rolling task. If he continually looked at the task as getting the rock to the top of the hill, of course he was going to be frustrated as it rolled back down every time. In Angela's mind, if he only adjusted his attitude enough to see the task as pushing the rock up the hill in order to watch it immediately fall, then he wouldn't succumb to thoughts of futility regarding his task. It was all in how one looked at the task. Angela had always been secure in her own interpretation of the myth; it was only now that her own boulder kept rolling down the hill that she questioned her previous conclusion.
Home life was starting to be permanently affected. There were no more movie nights; that long-standing family tradition was a victim of the Cold War between Tony and Angela. One week Jonathan and Sam had a talk amongst themselves and decided they no longer wanted to be a part of this battlefield and announced that they couldn't make it. Sam gave some plausible school related excuse; but the truth was she couldn't stand seeing the rift between her dad and Angela. Jonathan found school activities to be preferable to the situation at home; at this point Jonathan would think daily trips to the dentist would be preferable to the situation at home. With the kids gone, there was no reason for movie night, so no one ever bothered to organize one again. It was a loss everyone felt, Tony especially; he'd loved the family activity. Without it, he could feel the family being torn apart and he felt helpless to stop the disintegration. The family was disappearing down an abyss and he had no idea how to pull them out nor how to keep himself from falling into the darkness with them.
Angela was in turmoil. The next few weeks flew by; she continued to stay at work as part of her "Forget Tony" campaign. Whenever she did manage to come home, Tony kept trying to start conversations with her, but she wasn't talkative. Her distant state of being was becoming normal, and Tony most definitely did not like it. He felt excluded from her life and he didn't even know what he had done; or hadn't done, to deserve this banishment.
Faster than Angela could believe, the holidays were upon them, she didn't feel as though there was much to celebrate. It hadn't been an easy couple of months.
Holidays...more like Hellidays, that's what Angela had taken to calling them. Maybe she could create a campaign around the name, it would work well in an ad for a tropical resort: "Holidays more like Hellidays? Leave your cares, worries and family behind! Indulge in sandy beaches, spectacular sunsets and enough alcohol to forget your were ever born!" Hmm, a little too honest perhaps, and far too late in the season for a new ad campaign.
A tropical island wouldn't be a good escape for her anyway, even thinking up this fake campaign caused trauma because it only reminded her of Jamaica. Jamaica and Tony's false promises. Liar. He was such a hypocritical liar. Hellidays would never make it to a campaign, but it became Angela's private word for the season.
No matter how much she didn't want it to, Thanksgiving arrived. The whole family was gathered at the house, but it was bittersweet for Angela as she realized that this was very likely their last Thanksgiving together. How would she face the future years without Tony carving the turkey? Or the tantalizing aromas that drew her into the kitchen for tastes? That was always one of the highlights of Thanksgiving for her. Tony would put up a false protest, but he'd always let her taste what he was cooking, and she was always very appreciative...of the food. This year, Angela never drifted into the kitchen and he missed her. He'd never realized until now just how lonely cooking a Thanksgiving meal could be. If Angela didn't come in soon, he might start talking to the turkey.
Angela missed their little ritual too, but she feared the kitchen. Being around Tony while he was cooking was one of her favorite joys; she loved to watch as he chopped, seasoned and poured so much love into all the food he prepared. She wanted to be near him one last time for this very special hol...helliday; but she couldn't even handle thinking about it, so she was certain she wouldn't be able to handle a trip to the kitchen. She stayed with the rest of the family in the living room; it was uncomfortable for all of them. The aura in the room was tense; no one dared start a conversation because they weren't sure what might set Angela off. Angela desperately wanted to shut herself up in her den again, but it was Thanksgiving and this year her mother had made it known that she wanted the whole family together and would not tolerate her sequestering herself today. It was a last ditch effort on Mona's part to force Angela into talking; but it didn't work as Angela had mentally shut herself away just as effectively as if she had been in her den.
They watched the Macy's Parade, although there was no joy in it for Angela; and even though the Parade is nothing but a three hour block of advertising, Angela didn't connect with it as she had in previous years. Usually she tore apart her competitors' ads as they sang, danced and whistled their way through the programs they were interrupting. Or was it the shows interrupting the ads? On Thanksgiving Day it was hard to tell which programming was more prevalent. Mona tried to bring some levity by reminding everyone of the time she was in the Parade. Sam and Jonathan smiled in remembrance; but for Angela, all it did was stir up bad memories of Tony in another kitchen.
Remembering Tony in the kitchen with...what was her name? Angela couldn't even remember, so she called her the Stuffed Artichoke, it seemed to fit. She'd been so shocked; although looking back on it now, she didn't know why she was so surprised, the Stuffed Artichoke's purpose was obvious at dinner. Maybe she was jealous, it was only a few months before that Tony had kissed her in the kitchen. What was it with him and kissing women in the kitchen anyway? Why hadn't she remembered that cozy scene a couple of years later when she was finally able to admit her feelings for Tony out loud? Why didn't she start a "Forget Tony" campaign right then?
Mona could see Angela was zoning out; she looked at the kids and they all wondered what was going on in her head. Mona tried to distract her, "Oh look, Angela, it's that ad with the Hershey Kisses doing 'We Wish You a Merry Christmas,' you love that ad." Angela did tear herself away from her thoughts long enough to glance at the tv. She did love that ad, it was one of the few she wished she'd come up with herself. Being a short commercial, Angela's attention was quickly drawn back to her thoughts about Tony. Could she have been jealous of the Stuffed Artichoke? It seemed silly, it was comparatively so early in their relationship; but the Artichoke did have many comfy homemaking qualities that she lacked. She was jealous. How she could be jealous over something that had happened years ago, she wasn't sure, but she was.
Tony emerged from the kitchen carrying appetizers; he looked at Mona who answered him with a surreptitious shake of her heard. 'No progress with Angela' was the interpretation of the code. Tony put the food down on the coffee table and sat down in the side chair closest to the kitchen, nothing in there required his immediate attention and it was time to get ready for some football. The rest of the family kept a concerned eye on Angela and looking at each other; each of them desperately trying to think of a way to break this impasse in communication. No one came up with any ideas and they could see they'd lost Angela to her own thoughts again.
Everyone hoped the Thanksgiving Day football games would distract Angela. She'd started to pick up the game under Tony's tutelage; she was almost to the point where she could tell a first down from a touchdown. If the family were hoping Angela would engage with them during the games, they were sadly wrong. If anything, the games created even more detachment in Angela; she wasn't very interested in football in the first place, so feigning enthusiasm for a team was something she wasn't good at in the best of times. She was fooling no one with a half-hearted shout of, "go Lions!" at kickoff. Mona was doing her best to bring some frivolity to the day by whistling at the players and praising the tight ends. The players who played Tight End that is; or at least that's what she tried to coerce everyone into believing, but they weren't buying, they knew she meant how well the muscular ends fit into their tight pants.
Angela was back to thinking about the Stuffed Artichoke; why hadn't she seen that situation for the lesson it was? It had only been the previous summer that she and Tony were essentially quarantined in a lousy motel with almost no clothes. Yet, he managed to keep his hands off her then too. He probably wouldn't have kept the off the Stuffed Artichoke if he had been marooned with her instead. Rational thought had left Angela's mind; she didn't let herself remember the other side of the tango interruptus from that night, the part where she was angry with Tony. No sane man would try to seduce a woman mad at him; but Angela didn't see that. In her mind the once treasured evening was now another example of her wallflower status in Tony's heart.
The whole night in the motel room played in her mind; the rain, the makeshift clothes, the Wall of Jericho, the tension. At least there had been tension on her part; Tony was too engrossed in ruining a sweet memory from her adolescence, one of the very few good memories, to notice that the lightning wasn't the only natural phenomenon creating sparks. She should have seen it then; even when they wound up squished together in that undersized bed, he managed to keep to his side of the mattress. Was she that undesirable?
Ingrid, Ingrid, Ingrid; it was all he could talk about, oh how she remembered that look of shock on his when she told him she was Ingrid. Angela now wondered if changing her name to Ingrid would get Tony's attention again; it seemed to work when he was 12; no wait, he'd been 11. No wallflower status for him; ever.
Nothing made sense to Angela anymore; he'd seemed attracted to her that night, which didn't fit in with the role of 'Tony's Wallflower' she'd cast herself in. Heaven knows she'd been attracted to him. They'd been so close; yet they decided to keep their relationship as it was. Was it been the best decision they could have made? Maybe they should have tried for a different relationship, would things be better now if they had taken the chance when so obviously presented to them?
"And the quarterback is sacked, resulting in a loss of six yards on the play," a stray announcement from the football game permeated Angela's thoughts; almost bringing her into interaction with the rest of the family. She didn't interact and was soon back in the motel room with Tony; if he were a quarterback, she'd sack him anytime. They'd almost sacked each other that night, and now she wished they had taken that chance, for no matter what happened after that point at least she would have had a great memory.
"Fumble!" the announcer yelled. Angela paid enough attention to the game to nod in agreement with him; but she was thinking about Tony and the way they'd fumbled away their relationship. There would be no recovery; by either one of them. The longer Angela thought about their forced togetherness in that hideous motel room, the more a thought crystallized in her mind: that night was the night she started repressing her attraction to Tony in earnest. Up to that point; she'd admitted to herself that he was cute and fun to be around, even if she would never admit it to her friends. But that night; that night, she was so caught up in their past and the romance of it all that she could not deny that her innocent admiration of him had turned to desire. Desire had long been her enemy; wreaking havoc with her personal life, she'd long ago learned to control it, repression was a way of life for her.
She'd started repressing everything she felt for Tony when they'd decided to keep their relationship safe and sound. It was an unhealthy choice, leaving both of them bereft of the joy of expressing their true emotions, and it had led to the mess their lives were in today. There may have been moments here and there when they let their feelings come out to play; but for the most part they'd locked down the truth and pretended it wasn't there, even though the truth was obvious to everyone else.
Years of repression were now taking its toll. Angela could feel the dank suffocation of the repression closing in on her and inundating her from all sides; the way the rain had on that night. It was relentless rain; cold, heavy, constantly pelting her as they ran through the woods looking for shelter. Angela remembered feeling so soaked she thought for sure that she would never dry out. She felt the same way now; the repression imbued her body and soul, infecting her with a dark, damp ache that she was certain would never go away.
The once cherished night in the motel and Tony's early return from Brooklyn after his date with the Stuffed Artichoke were added to her mental list of wallflower status examples. After all, men don't discuss their sexual reluctance with a potential girlfriend; only with someone who would be perpetually in the friend column. She looked back in confusion; they'd had an intimate conversation; but it was a very guarded talk; not a boyfriend/girlfriend talk. She might as well have been one of his guy friends at that point, talking him through a rough night. She thought be probably never even noticed she was female; she was separate from all the other women he knew, kept in a figurative box labeled: "Boss. Hands Off. Permanently. Person with no sexuality whatsoever." It never occurred to Angela that Tony had in essence been marooned in Brooklyn with Gina and for the most part, kept his hands off her, completely negating her jealous thoughts.
Angela had built up her belief system to only support her theory that she was Tony's wallflower. Any shred of evidence pointing to a different truth was ignored or dismissed as unimportant and untrue. She deeply believed that she had not lost Tony; but that he'd never been hers in the first place.
As they moved into the dining room to sit down for Thanksgiving dinner, Angela looked at each beloved member of the family in turn. Jonathan sat near her; her heart was glad that he'd had he chance to grow up with Tony as his father figure. It was a shame that Tony would be gone before he graduated from high school. Angela always thought Tony would be a part of the household for Jonathan's graduation; it was only at this moment that she realized Tony wouldn't be as much a part of the event as she had always planned on. Depending on where his career path took him, he might not be able to attend graduation at all. The full horror of this possibility splintered her heart; now it ached for her little boy as well as Tony. What if neither Tony nor Michael were able to attend? For all she knew Michael would be off in Siberia, Timbuktu, Machu Picchu or Anaheim; it would be just like him.
Anger started to overtake her; premature and misplaced anger. Angela wasn't thinking clearly enough to notice the irrationality of being mad at Michael for an event over a year in the future; one which Michael had no intention of missing. The rest of the family noticed Angela's expression take on a scowl; they tried to ignore it, but they all wondered what was going through her mind. Tony cleared his throat which captured Angela's attention enough to draw it away from Michael and refocus on the family members at the table.
Sam was the next person she glanced at; seeing Sam melted away her anger, for in looking at the beautiful young woman she saw only potential and joy. What a gift she had been given the day Sam walked into her life. Helping her grow up was a treasure she'd cherish always, and even though she wasn't far away, Angela still missed her presence in the house; and if she missed her, she knew Tony missed her tenfold.
Tony. She couldn't think about Tony; she moved on to her mother. Life with mother was never dull. At times it was embarrassing or unbelievable and over the top; but never dull. How had she missed out on inheriting her mother's enthusiasm for the bohemian lifestyle? All the times Angela had tried to break out of her straight-laced world had only ended in a temporary change. Angela never regretted the attempts; she only wished she'd been better able to combine the two lifestyles; but perhaps their incompatibility was what made life so interesting. She was silently thankful that her mother kept pestering her through the current mess in her life; even if there was nothing Mona could do, it showed Angela that she cared. That left only one beloved person at the table.
Tony.
Tony was at the opposite end of the table, near the kitchen. Her gratitude for him was beyond measure. Although their story together did not have a happy ending, she still considered herself fortunate to have met him. She'd cling to the memories she created with him during future lonely days and nights. Angela tried to absorb every nuance of family togetherness that she could in order to press it in her memory to take out and enjoy on future empty holidays. She stopped her thoughts to correct that to 'hellidays,' for how could any future so-called holiday be at all happy without Tony as part of it? Her eyes started to tear up, her heart ached; but she managed to keep the tears from falling.
The rest of the family noticed Angela's far away look; they glanced among themselves wondering if anyone should dare ask Angela what she was thinking. Angela sighed and the moment was broken; it was time to eat. Tony gave a short prayer of thanks for the health of the family, their togetherness and the food on the table. Then everyone dug into Tony's delicious meal. Angela pulled herself together; if this was Tony's last Thanksgiving here, she wanted to enjoy it; she wanted memories of smiles and laughter, not tears. She couldn't let herself be a Gloomy Gus forever, she was going to have to make her peace with Tony leaving and it might as well start now; she forced herself to enjoy the company and the day, and even managed a real laugh or two.
Tony took Angela's laughter as a good sign; it was the first time he'd heard her laugh in so long he couldn't even remember. It felt wonderful to hear her laugh, It gave him hope. He couldn't know at the time that it was false hope. The rest of the family was mystified by Angela's instantaneous change of mood, but followed her lead. Through a little laughter and a lot of wine they managed to create one more happy family dinner to add to their repertoire. When it was over, Angela tucked the memory into her heart for safekeeping; if she couldn't have him forever, she could at least cherish this final Thanksgiving with Tony at the helm.
It was late, everyone else had gone to bed. Tony was trying to organize the chaos that was the result of a Thanksgiving dinner. Angela slipped into the kitchen without him hearing; she took a quiet moment to enjoy his presence. He looked so...delicious, this grown man almost befuddled by a room full of dishes and leftovers. Tony sensed he was not alone, he turned around and couldn't have been more astonished if he had seen a ghost; he most definitely did not expect Angela to show up, but he was very glad she did.
"Hey, Angela; you need something? Got lots of leftovers; turkey, stuffing, potatoes, apple pie..."
Angela put up a hand to stop him, she was still full from dinner, "no, no thank you, Tony. Dinner was wonderful. I was wondering if you needed any help."
The answer in his head was no; the kitchen was difficult enough for one person to wade through, adding another would only bring more problems as they tried to communicate. Their communication skills had been sorely tested the past few months, the stress of cleaning was not a good place to try and re-establish them. His heart didn't listen and made the smarter choice; if Angela wanted to be around him, he was definitely going to make the most of the opportunity. "Sure, Angela," he said, "pull up a dish towel and wipe away." He presented her with a towel, bending over and draping it on his forearm; "Madam, your dishes await."
She laughed, not a full, hearty laugh; but at this point Tony would take anything.
It was quiet in the kitchen; neither knew what to say. Tony was desperately skimming through topics in his head, trying to find anything to talk about; the smallest of small talk would be fine, but he couldn't find a topic that might not be a minefield: 'So Angela, read any good books lately?' Sounded like she hadn't had much of a social life; she hadn't and Tony didn't want to bring attention to that. 'How 'bout those...' there was no way to even finish that sentence. 'Why have you been so distant the past couple of months?' A little too direct; and she'd only deny her distance anyway.
While Tony's thoughts were jumbled, Angela's were more serene. She was enjoying spending time with Tony again; they'd spent too much time apart recently and she was happy to be back in the warmth and safety of his presence. It did not cross her mind that the reason they had spent so much time apart was because she'd cut him out of her life; and even if it had, she would not have believed it. In her mind, Tony was the cause of the chasm between them. Angela continued to dry dishes and basked in the calmness of having her best friend at her side again. She could feel Tony's eyes on her; wanting to bridge the gap, but she wouldn't meet them. She didn't dare look at him, it was difficult enough knowing that this moment of happiness would be very short-lived. Soon the dishes would be done and she would have no excuse to be at his side; she didn't want to hasten her own exit.
"How's the Smithton account?" Finally Tony had come up with a safe topic, even if he did approach the subject a little tentatively.
"Fine," she answered, finishing another dish and placing in on the pile. She did not even look at him as she did so. Angela was beginning to form an escape plan. She hadn't been in such close proximity to Tony in far too long, especially in the kitchen, his closeness was starting to overwhelm her. There were too many memories here. Even though she did her best to keep her focus out the window, there were times when she inadvertently glanced at places that now held only pain for her. There was the spot Tony had kissed her so long ago; it was easy to chalk that up to the alcohol now. Close by was the spot where Tony had asked her out on that disastrous pity date. Had she really ever been naive enough to believe he was sincere in that request? She couldn't forgive herself for being that gullible, which only brought her to the declaration of last summer. Why had the words slipped out? If they hadn't, she would still be in relationship stasis with Tony. It wasn't a great way to live, but it was better than their current relationship. His presence was bringing her love for him back to the surface. She couldn't cope with feeling the love, yet all the while knowing it was a hopeless love. She was terrified that any second she could burst into tears as another wave of emotion threatened to engulf her. How would Tony handle it if she did? Would he put his arms around her to comfort her? If he did, she had no idea how she would react; she couldn't even figure out if she wanted him to hold her or not.
Tony had never had such a difficult time communicating with a woman in his entire life. Their so-called discussion of the Smithon account had been the shortest conversation they had ever had about a client. He wanted to break through this impasse, find the way back to the woman he knew was still there, yet had been unable to connect with for months.
Tony was desperate as he blurted out the next topic of conversation that came to his mind, "how about a family vacation to Florida this winter? Palm trees, sand, beaches. No snow, no ice; just sunshine...and sunscreen." Tony didn't know where that idea came from, but the more he thought about it, the more he liked it. They hadn't been away together in a while, it made be just what they needed to reconnect.
Angela literally stopped what she was doing. A trip to Florida with Tony and the kids...and her mother did sound nice. A final opportunity for family togetherness and memory making might lessen the hurt of Tony's inevitable departure.
Tony could see that Angela was considering the idea.
"I'll have to think about it," she finally answered, like she hadn't thought enough already; but she was scared and didn't want to commit and get the family's hopes up.
Tony would have preferred a definite yes; but at least it wasn't a flat-out no.
"Could be a lot of fun, getting out of a Connecticut winter."
"I said I'd think about," Angela answered more harshly than she felt; she saw hurt in Tony's eyes, "I'm sorry, Tony. I just have a lot on my mind."
Finally an opportunity, Tony inwardly rejoiced, then asked, "care to talk about it? Four chairs, no waiting."
She was tempted, he could see it in her eyes; but then darkness overtook the sparkle in them. shutting him out. What was she thinking? She was thinking that the spell had been broken and the only thoughts running through her mind now were negative, especially the one that went, "I'm sorry I'm not up to your standards in women, Tony." If she had only voiced it she would have seen Tony's jaw drop to the floor; for if anything he had Angela so high up on a pedestal that she was untouchable.
Angela looked away from Tony toward the back door, it was an escape route, but she needn't be so dramatic. Her escape tonight was simple. She put the dish towel down on the table and said, "I'm tired Tony, good night. Thanks for another wonderful Thanksgiving dinner." With that she went upstairs and locked herself in her room. It was a close call for her; she barely made it into her room before the tears started to fall.
Tony watched the door swing behind her after she left, once again. He'd been so close, he could see that. He'd thought they'd made some progress today, but it was gone in almost literally, the blink of an eye. He sighed, picked up Angela's recently discarded dish towel and resumed his lonely clean up tasks.