April

Tony decided that the best way to move on from Sam's wedding was hard labor. Fortunately, Mother Nature was bountiful in providing as the snow had melted and he could finally do a spring clean up of the lawn. Yes, all that fresh air and raking did help his mood. At least it did until he was near the hedge at the back of the house. There was something unusual mixed in with the winter detritus. He picked it up and found it to be a desiccated rose. A fresh wave of the hurt he'd felt on Valentine's Day overcame him. He threw the shriveled flower into the garbage, trying not to see it as a metaphor. Then he went inside and did something he thought he'd never do, he made an appointment to see Doctor Bellows without the rest of the family, or what was left of the rest of the family, an irksome thought prodded him.

Tony sat on the couch, across from Dr. Bellows. If she was reading his body language correctly, he was dejected. He was leaning forward, hands clasped between his knees. He hadn't yet said anything, but she could tell he was trying to find a starting point.

"Thanks for seeing me, Doc. It's been a heck of a…," he might have said, week, month, or year, but went with, "life," instead. "Sam got married."

This was a surprise to Dr. Bellows, and an even greater surprise was that she hadn't heard from Angela about this event.

Tony continued, "she just came home one day and said, 'this is Hank, we're getting married...next week. How does anyone react to that? We tried everything to stop her, but she wouldn't listen."

"We?"

"Yeah, Angela...the closest we've been in months and it was because of this mess that Sam dropped in our laps. This wasn't the way I was hoping to get back on better terms with Angela. Doesn't matter anyway, it was a short-lived closeness, and now we're back to being strangers."

Dr. Bellows was now not surprised that Tony had made an appointment.

"Everything is just chaos, Doc. I feel like I don't have any footing anywhere. Anything I thought was solid is just...crumbling."

He hesitated.

"Go on," she encouraged.

"It reminds me of how I felt when Marie died. I never thought I'd feel that way again. I never wanted to feel that way again." Tony's agitation at confronting this trauma brought him to his feet, he walked to the window. He may have been physically in an office in Connecticut, but mentally has was miles, and years, away. "It's all parallels. Marie...gone. Angela...as good as gone. Career...lost. Career now? Non-existent. Family...at least then I had a daughter who needed me. Now she doesn't. People who say that time heals all wounds are full of crap. I miss Marie more than ever. I miss her for what she missed. She missed Sam growing up, Sam's wedding, and when Sam has kids, Marie will never be able to hold her grandchildren. She didn't deserve to be deprived of all that."

Dr. Bellows picked up the implied, "and I didn't deserve to be deprived of her." She walked over to the window and handed Tony a box of tissues. "Crying isn't weakness."

Tony wasn't so sure he agreed with that, but he took the tissues. Dr. Bellows took a couple of steps back.

"Her birthday is coming up. I want to ignore it, but it won't let me. Seems no matter where I am there's birthday stuff; yesterday in the cafeteria people were singing "Happy Birthday". The grocery store has balloons, cards...I stopped in my tracks at the bakery counter. All those cakes just sitting there waiting for candles and celebration. I thought about candles for Marie, she'd be...it doesn't matter how old she'd be," he said bitterly, "she stopped having birthdays a long time ago."

Dr. Bellows continued to hold the silence for Tony. He worked through his emotions, "it's not fair, Doc! Marie was just...joy. She'd help people. She cared. She was part of the Rosary Altar Society. I still have the rosary she got for her Confirmation, someday I'll give it to Sam. Maybe I should have given it to her as a wedding present, I don't know."

More silence as Tony tried to compose himself.

He continued, hoarsely, "Every second I spent with Marie I felt like the luckiest guy alive. You walk down the aisle thinking things are going your way. Sure, you know there's going to be bad stuff, but you figure you can take it. You have no idea how bad it can be. Diagnosis to gone in just a few months. There wasn't even time to come to terms with the diagnosis. It seemed like someone was playing a joke; a bad joke, on us. She deteriorated before my eyes and I was helpless. I wanted to make her better, to take away the pain. As her husband, I made a vow to help her in sickness. There should have been something I could have done, but I failed her."

Tony tried to surreptitiously take another tissue, and Doctor Bellows let him think he had.

"Tony, you do not have power over death. I'm sure you waited on her hand and foot, and your presence alone helped her."

He made a derisive noise, to this day not believing that that was all he could have done. "All that life, all that joy, just taken from me and Sam. It took a long time just to get through the shock. I'd walk down the street and there were always so many people, and inside I was screaming, 'how can you just go on with your lives? Don't you know my wife is dead?' Of course they didn't know, and even if they did, that's life isn't it? They have their own traumas to deal with that I know nothing about. It's that I felt so out of it, so out of place, like I didn't belong in society anymore. People who did know me, pitied me, that wasn't so great either. We'd be having a poker game and the guys would start talking about their wives and suddenly they'd stop. They'd avoid looking at me, apologize, and suddenly that buffet table looked awfully good. I was no longer part of the Married Man's Club. I was separate...alone. The worst days...after...were the ones when I would come home to silence. Sam would be at a friend's or Mrs. Rossini's. I'd open the door and the silence...was overwhelming. Empty home, empty heart. There was no one there smiling, happy to see me. She didn't deserve to suffer the way she did...she tried so hard to shield Sam from it all. If Sam did know, she never let on...maybe she was being strong for me. Sure could use that now."

"Talk to her. She's married, she didn't move to Mars. She'll always be your daughter."

"I know, I know, I haven't lost a daughter, I've gained a son-in-law. Would have been nice to meet him more than a week before the wedding. How...how do you tell someone with stars in their eyes that life isn't happily ever after? Especially when I want happily ever after for her. I don't want her to ever hurt again in her life. I don't want her to go through what I did."

"You can't control what happens to Sam."

"It's not from lack of trying," he managed a joke at himself.

"There are no magic words to grant Sam a happy life, you gave her the foundation, the rest is up to her."

"Doesn't help that they have moved in with his parents. Sam chose them over her own family. Given the state of the family, can't say I blame her. There is no family. No home. Home is where I work, but it's someone else's home. There's nothing, no place where I belong. Everything's gone. Couldn't help Marie, can't help Angela."

"You're grieving the loss of the life you thought you'd have...again. Which stage would you put yourself in: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, or acceptance?"

Tony thought for a while, then said, "still bargaining, keep thinking Angela is going to snap back to being herself and we'll just forget these past few months happened. Angry too...that this happened at all, but time is running out, so I better get to acceptance soon."

"Fair enough. You've had a lot of upheaval in your life. Let's create an action plan for what you can control."

He turned away from the window, "should I start a countdown calendar, too?"

"Not necessarily; but since you brought it up, have you thought about the calendar from Angela's point of view?"

"What's to think about? She's counting the days until she is rid of me."

"She's counting the days until your graduation, there's a difference. It's an important day in your life."

"But it's not an important day in our life. At one time I thought it would be, but now I see I was just fooling myself. Even on the day we met I never felt so unwelcome in the house as I do now. Every night she crosses out another day and says, 'so long, Micelli!'"

This wasn't working, Doctor Bellows couldn't get Tony to consider that Angela was counting down in dread, not anticipation. She tried, "why do you think she wants you gone?"

Tony barreled on, "You should have seen the way she looked at me, Doc."

"When?"

"When she couldn't get away from me fast enough the night Sam announced her engagement. She let me hold her. Even in that mess, there were moments when things felt right again. But the look on her face...it just added more hurt to the turmoil of the day."

"What look?"

"The look of utter disgust."

"Tony."

"Fine, I don't disgust her. Deep down she loves me and doesn't want me to go. She's just counting down to the day I leave because she can't bear to lose me." Tony said this sarcastically, but Doctor Bellows thought he hit a home run.

"Is that so far-fetched?" she asked.

"Yes, it is. A guy knows when a woman doesn't want him around. Not that I have much experience with that."

"Have you ever told Angela how you really feel about her?"

"Doc, how I feel about her isn't important anymore."

"Do you think I am going to let you get away with that."

"Fine. Does being sedated count?"

"No."

"Yes, I told her. It didn't matter, it's like it didn't even register with her. She's so...altered."

"Have you considered telling her again?"

He thought about the rose, "I tried, but she ignored me."

"So, you have choices to make. What do you plan to do after graduation?"

"I have a job interview. I haven't even told Angela about it yet. Only catch is it's in Iowa. Iowa. I never thought I'd leave the east coast; but Angela has rejected me, Sam doesn't need me, and even halfway across the country I'd still be closer to Jonathan than his father is."

"When are you going to tell Angela?"

"I suppose you want a committed answer to that?"

"Tony, you are the one in charge of your life, you don't need me to tell you that."

"Right."

And that's how later in the evening Angela was startled by a knock on her study door. She hastily shoved her countdown calendar into the cabinet. It had been neglected during the wedding chaos, so she had several days to cross off, which only made her feel as though time had sped up. "Come in," she said in a tone that she hoped sounded like she was under control and not the weeping mess she was underneath it all.

Tony slowly opened the door and peeked in, "hey Angela, got a minute?"

"Of course."

He cautiously entered. "So, um...how are ya?"

"Fine, but I don't think you are here to inquire about my health."

"Always the perceptive Angela." He paused, looking anywhere but at her, "this is such a nice room...nice window seat."

"Tony,"

"Hmm?"

"What did you come in here to say?"

He took a deep breath, "I'm going to Iowa next week for a job interview."

Angela hid her surprise well. "I see."

"A baseball coach is retiring from a small college. I can teach and coach."

"I see," she said again, still trying to process this news, "well, it would certainly be a good way to put all your skills and hard work to use."

"Yup."

"How long will you be gone?"

"I'll leave next Friday, be back Sunday."

She nodded.

"So, I thought you should know."

"Of course. Thank you for telling me."

Tony could feel the room becoming colder. "I'll start dinner now," was as good an excuse as any to exit.

Angela nodded again. After Tony left the room she once again pulled out the calendar. Now she had something else to write on it. Iowa. "Iowa?" she thought. She'd always thought that Tony would be staying in the area, even if he wasn't staying in the house. Iowa added another level of loss to her. Even though she had already booked the caterer and ordered the cake for his graduation party, news of a job interview changed this nebulous planning from "far off into the future" to "it will be here before you know it".

At least now she might make some headway as to a gift. Perhaps Tiffany's carried pitch forks.