May 1979 – St. Charles, IL

Michael held Jonathan's hand as they slowly took each stair down to breakfast. Angela was walking behind them, but when they got to the bottom at the foyer, she passed them, making pointed eye contact with Michael. She made sure he knew she'd been checking him out. He laughed a little, and they walked into the dining room.

"Good morning!" Elaine said, standing with a hand on Ben's shoulder. Ben was seated with his family at the massive, 10-person table, and Steven was standing behind them, stirring cream into his coffee. "Dorothy has prepared us a leisurely breakfast," she said proudly, turning to reveal a smaller version of a Vegas buffet. "Come, eat," she smiled.

Everyone was dressed like they were going to take a spring family photo. Sweaters, white slacks and skirts, and Lacoste abounded, with not a stray blonde hair among them. Angela's light pink, dress pants and cream, sleeveless blouse made her fit in, but she was far from comfortable. Michael was in his typical cargo pants with button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled to the elbow, and she could already feel the black sheep vibe. Angela took Michael's hand, and smiled at each of them. "It's good to see you all again."

"Hi," Michael nodded at his brother and Cheryl.

"Michael," Ben nodded back. Cheryl made an effort at a smile.

Looking for diversion, Angela picked up Jonathan, and walked around to their side of the table. She squatted down next to Daniel and Amy.

"Hi, Amy. Hi, Daniel. This is Jonathan," she smiled up at them.

The little girl patted his head softly, and smiled. "It's good he has yellow hair."

Feeling a little thrown, Angela smiled awkwardly, and stood up to try again. "You both were so little the last time I saw you. How old are you now?"

"I'm 5," said Amy. She pointed to her brother. "He's 4."

Daniel stared up at Jonathan. It wasn't exactly a glare, but neither was it friendly.

"Wow! Well, Jonathan is still 1. Do you think he'll catch up with you?"

"That's impossible," Amy quipped. She grabbed a strawberry from her plate, and held it up to him. "Is he hungry?"

Jonathan dove for the berry, and Angela struggled to stay upright. "I think so!" she laughed.

Amy gave it to him, and turned back to her plate.

"Well, we should probably get him his own." Angela turned back toward Michael, who pulled out a chair for her. She smiled at him, and quietly said, "Thanks, Honey."

Michael touched her shoulder before walking to the buffet table and getting a plate. Angela monitored Jonathan sucking on the strawberry, while Michael got some eggs, fruit, and a muffin for Jonathan and Angela to share.

Cheryl forked a piece of cantaloupe, and looked up at Angela. "Angela, Ben tells me you got into a house. How are you liking it?"

Angela tried hard to take her question at face value. "Yes! We did, almost a year ago now. It's been wonderful."

Cheryl nodded primly. "Yes, I can only imagine anything would be better than an apartment," she laughed, looking at her husband, who shared her mirth.

"That's Michael, for you," Ben laughed, and turned to look at Michael, who was walking back with their food. "That's why I kept telling you all those years, invest in real estate. Was I wrong?"

Angela felt herself get tight, but Michael's eyebrows did a little talking between him and his brother. She had no interest in defending herself to these two on anything, but she was ready to kill a bear for Michael. Better start with some snakes. "It worked out with just the right timing," Angela said confidently, as Michael sat down next to her.

Ben dropped his hand to the table, and leaned forward. "Interest rates went up fifty percent from '77 to '78!"

"But so did our income," she retorted smoothly. Shit! That was the wrong thing to say.

Ben chuckled. "Yes, Mom and Dad told us about your promotion. Congratulations!"

Angela felt sweat beading between her eyebrows. Michael wasn't even looking at her, and she could still feel his stormy glare. She felt a frantic need to fix what she'd started. "It was a good time for both of us. Michael's national projects had earned him high acclaim in the industry, and he's well-positioned to accept another overseas assignment. We're very excited for him," she said, smiling at her husband.

Ben laughed, "Yeah, I'd be looking forward to getting rid of this grump, too, 'ay, Dad?" He patted his hand backward onto Steven's stomach. His parents and Cheryl all laughed, and Angela was stunned into silence. Michael was only eating scrambled eggs, but he looked like he was chewing through tire rubber.

Michael eyed his brother, and scooted his chair back. He walked to the buffet table, and poured himself a mug of coffee.

"Well, I'm going to miss him," she said trying to make eye contact with Michael. "But ultimately, this is what he loves to do, so I want him to do it." She looked back to the troublesome foursome. "Never in my life have I wanted to get up close to wild animals, but he makes them interesting. He's filmed poison frogs in Nicaragua, puff adders in Angola, uh, alligators in Florida, snakes in Texas, polar bears in Alaska…," she shook her head, and looked down to stab a bite of egg. "I find it fascinating. He's devoted his life to educating people on what else is out there." She took a bite, and looked up to smile at Michael. He was still standing by the buffet table, glaring at her over the rim of his cup.

Angela sighed internally. I don't know why I keep trying to play this game.

Nobody said anything. But after a few seconds, Elaine broke the awkward silence. "Make sure you eat up, Everyone! We aren't having Dorothy make lunch today, because of the party tonight." She rubbed Steven's arm, "I'm so excited! The ballroom at the club!"

Steven leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "And what a nice night for it," he looked down at Ben. "It's supposed to be 70 degrees." They all nodded, appreciatively, and continued eating their breakfast.

Angela broke off bits of muffin for Jonathan, and put the rest in her mouth.


"Why do you do that?" Michael barked at Angela, up in their room.

She threw a worried glance back at the closed door. "Shh, they can probably hear you."

"Why? They already think I'm an asshole! And quit shushing me!"

Angela plopped down onto the bed, and Jonathan tried to climb up next to her. She sighed, and her whole upper body screamed defeat. She shrugged, and shook her head. "I was trying to help," she said quietly.

"Well, you didn't."

She still spoke quietly, not ready to reveal her cards to them just yet. "What do you want me to do? They pounced on you, mercilessly. Am I just supposed to stand by, and not say anything?"

"Yes! Just observe, like I do. We come, we endure, and then we leave."

Angela blinked. Is that what he does with me?

A mixture of sadness and horror started to overtake her face.

"What?" he snapped.

It took her several seconds, trying to formulate a response, before she gave up. She already knew the answer. Shaking her head in a frenzy, she got up, grabbed Jonathan, and hurried out of the room.

Angela hustled out the back door and took their socks off and rolled up their cuffs. She held Jonathan's hand, and walked to the far end of the lot, where a tiny lake met the grass and separated the backyards of at least six giant houses. She felt her chest shaking and forced herself to stare out at the water.

Jonathan picked up handfuls of dirt and rocks under the inch of water by his toes. "Is dirty," he mumbled to himself as he swirled the water. She felt like she should be squatting down to play with him, but it was all she could do to keep standing. She just breathed.

He never wanted to marry me. I did make him do this.

Angela squeezed her eyes tight. Giant tears fell off her face, and she shuddered her next breaths.

She was furious with herself for being so needy. She still wanted Michael. She still wanted him to want her, even though she knew he didn't. She was furious with herself for having sex with him not an hour before he hurt her so badly. It happens that way every time. Why do I keep pushing him? He doesn't want to be with me. This is my fault!

Angela's sobs caught in her throat, and she coughed. Jonathan looked up at her from where he was squatted in the water and stuck one wet hand up in the air at her. She looked down at her son with compassion.

Trying to regain composure, she drew a ragged breath and squatted down with him, trying to keep her butt out of the water. He reached up his muddy hand to her eye and smeared his tiny handprint down her face. A little laugh came out of her. At least it'll camouflage the mascara.


That evening, the weatherman was right. It was a lovely 71 degrees with equal humidity. Angela swiped on another couple coats of anti-perspirant, and misted Chanel No. 5 onto her chest. She zipped up the navy, satinized polyester gown. It had a sharp V-neck that plunged from her shoulders to her ribcage, and a flowing A-line skirt. Sheer, navy, poet sleeves punctuated the princess look. She'd framed her crown with loose curls, and her neck with a long rope of pearls. Angela looked into the mirror like a dead woman.

I just want to go home.

Jonathan was napping, and Michael had gone for a walk. The color had gone out of Angela's face, but she thought adding more blush would just look creepy. Resigned, she flicked off the bathroom light, and went to lie on top of the bed until it was time to go to the club.

She dozed off, and woke to Michael trying to get Jonathan in his little suit. "Nooo!" Jonathan yelled, when he tried to put the jacket on him. Jonathan flung his arms back and forth like a Japanese hand drum. Angela laughed a little. One, it was cute that Michael was trying to help with Jonathan. Two, it was fiendishly wonderful to see him struggle with common things like she did.

Michael whipped his head up from where he was still bent over. "What?"

Suddenly, nothing was funny, just harsh reality looking angrily up at her. Angela's eyes fell to the same lifelessness they'd occupied since breakfast. She shook her head a little, but didn't say anything. Then she pushed herself up onto her palms, and spun her feet off the bed slowly, trying not to dishevel her appearance.

Michael stood upright, and stared at her. Angela was looking down at the floor for a couple of seconds. Then she pushed herself off of the bed and turned in his direction, surprised to see him looking at her without a glare. "Wow. You look beautiful," he said softly.

She tightened her whole body, willing the tears to stay away. I wish he'd stop doing that! If he doesn't want me, why does he do that? She swallowed hard, and hurried to the bathroom. Leaning over the sink, she turned her face from side to side, checking her mascara. Still intact, she thought, relieved. Now, all I have to do is stay away from Michael. All evening. At his parents' anniversary party. She braced her hands on the sink, and dropped her chin to her chest. This is going to be a painful evening.