Chapter 15
March 1973 – Yale University
"Mother, I need a favor."
"Angela? Is that you?" Mona's half-quizzical, half-concerned tone clearly crackled through the phone.
"Yes," Angela spoke softly into the receiver through labored breaths. She was really nervous.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes. No. I mean…yes. I just – I need a favor." Angela had spent her lonely flight home running through possible game plans, and thought she had found a solution - if her mother was agreeable. But in order to think straight, she'd shoved her normal anxieties about talking to her mother aside. Namely, how she'd react if she found out about her being with a guy. But now that Angela was on the phone with her, she quickly remembered why she was usually anxious. How do I explain this?
"Anything, dear. What's going on?"
"Are you still in contact with those old friends of father from Harvard? I remember he had some friends who came over for brunch a few times. The Waltmans?"
"Oh, I remember them. She was one of the few wives of your father's friends I could stand. Vickie and Ted. I'm pretty sure I could track them down. What did you want with them?"
Angela let out a solidifying puff of air. "…I want to go to Harvard."
"What? Harvard? You hate Harvard. You've been a Yale girl since you could crawl into your father's letter sweater."
"I know." Angela closed her eyes, picturing the framed photo in her father's study. "But I just really need to get out of here."
"Angela, you tell me right now. Are you okay? Did something happen? Tell me if something happened."
"I'm fine, Mother. Nothing happened. I just – I don't want to go to graduate school here, and I would've needed to apply for any school months ago."
"Then why didn't you?"
"I did! I applied to Yale in the fall, and was accepted faster than anyone I knew. But I don't want to go here anymore."
"Angela," Mona's voice was starting to sound like she was straining for patience. "This is getting tiresome. If you're fine, and you're refusing an offer from your dream school, then there's a story here you're not telling me."
"Okay, there's a story here I'm not telling you. But I still need the Waltmans to help me get into Harvard. Do you think they still have any pull?"
"Back it up, young lady. You're gonna have to give me more than that. If I'm going to dig through your father's old rolodex, to find people I haven't talked to in a decade, to see if they can help my daughter - who's currently on track to graduate Summa Cum Laude – get into her rival school, then you'd better start dishing. What. Happened?"
Angela breathed in and out three full times.
"I just- I got involved with a man." Angela heard her mother gasp delightedly on the other end. Angela squinted her eyes tightly, and took another deep breath. "It just didn't work out. But he's going to come back here in the fall, and I do NOT want to be here when he does."
Silence.
"Angela? …Did that man make you do anything you didn't want to do?" Angela had never heard her mother's voice sound quite like that, and realization came to Angela's face.
"No! No. It wasn't anything like that." But it feels good to have her care, Angela smiled. She heard her mother exhale, and she refocused. "But it didn't end well, and uh…" Angela was very near tears, and tried to keep the shudder out of her voice. "I just need to get out of here, Mother. Please?"
Silence.
Mona sighed, "Of course, I'll help you, Angela. I just wish you'd tell me what's got you so spooked."
Silence.
"Alright," Mona acquiesced. "I seem to remember Vickie being on an alumni board of some kind. And I do know that some seniors do not have a stellar final semester, and sometimes there's some wiggle room in Admissions. I'll find out if Vickie can do anything." Angela let out her held breath. "You are still on track to keep that 4.0 aren't you?"
"Yes, Mother."
"Good. Don't let that bozo take that from you."
"Yes, Mother…and thank you."
"Mmm-hmm." Mona paused. "You know, this isn't how I was thinking your first story about a man was going to go." Angela shoved her tongue to the roof of her mouth to stifle a sob. I knew she'd be disappointed! "…I'm sorry, baby," Mona said in the most nurturing voice Angela had ever heard her mother use.
Angela's head and brows lifted in slow motion, and a little smile tipped her lips, "Thank you, Mother." Angela squeezed her eyes shut, and hugged the phone.
September 1973 – Harvard Business School
Angela breathed steadily as she started her second lap around the track, her blue shorts showing more than a couple feet of lean leg.
I can't believe I threw myself at him. He wasn't ready. All that time, I was focused on the fact that I was ready. But Brian was afraid, and I pushed him. Ugh! Angela set her jaw in self-judgement. She noticed another couple of runners merge into the lanes. I bet they got here legitimately…Here I am, taking someone's slot...Of course, I would've gotten in, had I asked in time. And the slot I took was available at the time… But Angela couldn't rid herself of the thought that she didn't deserve to be there. The thing is, if Mother hadn't known Vickie Waltman, I wouldn't have gotten in when I did. That's just the truth. Angela's steady gait was strong, and her form was tall, allowing every bit of oxygen she could into her lungs.
Truth. The truth is, Brian and I did have feelings for each other. I felt it. I saw it in his eyes when I lifted his spirits. I felt it when he touched me. I just scared him off. And then I came back and cowardly skittered over to another Ivy League school, worming my way in – is there no end to my insolence? …No wonder Father hated nepotism. Dishonest gain is low, and feels every inch of it. Angela was grateful for the sweat that camouflaged her tears from the runners she was passing, but she used the bottom of her t-shirt to wipe her face anyway. I may have told Brian the truth – that I don't feel like I deserve good things. But the truth is, I don't. Every time a possible gracious thought surfaced, she shoved it down like it was her rescuer coming to save her from drowning. She was going to take the reins. Passivity was her undoing. Excessive food flying into her mouth, herself flying off to a fantasy – No. She was grounding herself here and now.
Furious with herself, Angela pushed her body harder. As she rounded her 16th lap, her long legs flew forward powered by strong kicks from behind. She felt like she was running from something. From herself. That sounds about right. When she crossed the line where she started, she slowed to a walk. She bent down to grab her towel and water bottle, and noticed a group of guys taking turns looking her way. Shoving down the part of her that was flattered, she lowered her lids, and looked away. You don't know who you're dealing with, boys. I'd eat you alive…Besides, even if I'm wrong and you're the aggressors, you wouldn't get what you want from me. I am NOT going that fast ever again. Her logic made enough sense to pacify her as she navigated her wounds.
Angela showered, and walked to the library in her purple track suit. I may not be a winner, but I'm going to try my hardest. What else can I do?
She trotted up the steps, and settled into a table in the back. Putting her nose to the grindstone, she found all the materials she needed for her first paper. She got out her pencil and legal pad, organizing her thoughts. She actually enjoyed this part. At least, she used to. Now, she just felt – empty. Like she was still running. Always running.
At the sound of women laughing, Angela looked up from where her work was spread over the whole table. Angela felt a pang of jealousy and loneliness. She'd never had a lot of friends. Sure, she'd usually gotten along with most everyone. Lying usually does that, she chastised herself. It's not like I was ever myself. I guess I didn't have real friends. Ever. Well, except for Ben and Carwen. Angela smiled. I can be myself with them. They never push me away, even when I say ugly things. Her eyes filled, and she opened her eyes widely to make room for the extra moisture, willing it not to fall.
One of the women noticed her looking at them and got up. Angela quickly looked back to her books.
"Where you headed, Em?"
"Oh, I'll just be a minute."
The woman got up and walked over to Angela. Heat filled Angela's face when the other woman came to stand next to her. "Hey. I'm Emily. Were we disturbing you?"
"No, no, I'm fine. I'm sorry if I disturbed you."
"Oh, you didn't." Emily sat down. Angela's eyes widened and darted a bit. "So, what's your name?" she said smiling.
Angela was taken aback. "Uh, Angela." She recovered enough to return a smile.
"Pretty." Angela was stunned. Why is she being nice to me? "So are you an undergrad?"
"No, this is my first semester with the Business School." Emily's slate blue eyes lightened.
"Oh, really? Ours, too! We're all in the MBA program." Angela felt herself lightening, as well, and a warm smile came out without her permission. "Hey, I don't know how packed your schedule is, but if you have any free time, we have a book club. We discuss classical works, mostly prose. Are you interested in joining us?"
Angela felt like she was getting one of Carwen's hugs. She bit her lower lip, and nodded. Angela hated how juvenile she felt, but the kind smile on Emily's face calmed her in a way she didn't care if she deserved.
