May 1979 – St. Charles, IL
Angela placed the last of her and Jonathan's clothes into her Louis Vuitton. She zipped it up, and put it by the door. Except for when she was around other people, her expression hadn't changed since Michael had blown up on her a couple of hours before. She was still at a loss as to what had happened. She'd managed to keep the silence between them all morning while Michael changed their flight plans. She didn't even have it in her to make more than minimal eye contact with him. Everything seemed volatile, and her capacity was extremely low. She felt like she'd been beaten up, and was trying to get to a safe place to lick her wounds. Her eyes were on the office.
Michael had taken Jonathan to the car, and Angela struggled to pull her bag down to the foyer. She looked up, and found Elaine in the living room.
"Thank you for your hospitality," Angela said, walking up to her mother-in-law.
Elaine looked somewhat reserved, but she forced a smile. "Angela, it's been a pleasure having you here. You're welcome anytime."
Angela matched her pained smile. "Thank you, Elaine. The party was beautiful, and we had a wonderful time last night."
Elaine looked at her for a couple of seconds, but then nodded. She sighed, "I don't know how any of this will settle, but know you're appreciated."
Angela nodded, "Thank you, again."
Elaine went in for a hug, and Angela reciprocated. Angela gave the woman one last flat-lined smile, slipped on her shoes, and lugged her bag out the front door.
That morning, Michael had gone for a run in his pajamas, and when he'd come back an hour later, he'd found her feeding Jonathan in the kitchen with his parents. Upon seeing them, he'd turned around without saying anything, and gone to their room. He'd come down, showered and dressed, with his packed bag and carry-ons, stiffly asking his parents if he could borrow the phone, promising it would be worth their while. Then he'd spent the next 40 minutes trying to change their flights. Once he did, he'd told Angela privately that they were leaving early. As curious as she was as to the cause of the shift, she wasn't ready to pay for the answer. Sighing to herself, she'd gotten ready for the day, and packed her and Jonathan's things. He'd informed his parents of their imminent departure, and then sat in the car with Jonathan while he waited. It was all so strange, and yet increasingly familiar.
She had on dress slacks and a blouse this time, but even in 2-inch heels, her effort to lug the giant leather bag from the front door to the car was cumbersome, to say the least. Michael rolled his eyes, and got out of the car. He set an annoyed eye on her, as he took the bag from her hands. She mumbled a quiet, "Thank you," but didn't look at him long. She felt so inept around him.
By the time they reached cruising altitude late that night, Jonathan was asleep. Angela held him facing her on her chest, and leaned against the tiny black window. She was so drained. Getting back early actually sounds good. I can sleep for half a day, then get into the office. She smiled, feeling slightly recharged just having a plan of attack. She drifted off to sleep, facing the darkness outside.
May 1979 – Fairfield, CT
They pulled up to their house, and Angela grabbed her purse and brought Jonathan inside. Michael unloaded all the bags, and brought them inside. She was so grateful Jonathan was still sleepy; it wasn't that long of a flight. She carried him to his room to lie down next to him. He was out cold in fifteen minutes. She tiptoed out of his room, and walked to theirs. Michael was under the covers, facing away from the door. A pain came over Angela. Everything hurt. It was heavy, and she didn't see it leaving any time soon. Funny thing, she thought still looking at him, this feels like true north. Sure, something happens, and the compass wobbles around for a while. But eventually, the needle settles. This is where it's headed. At least when it's here, I know I'm not going to be yanked into hell with zero provocation.
Angela took a breath. There was actually some steadiness in that. She pulled a nightgown out of her drawer, and put it on. She didn't look at him as she walked to the bathroom. She didn't need to. Something stiffened in her heart, and it propped up her chin at the mirror. I can do this.
Angela woke to Jonathan yelling for her. She looked over at Michael's side of the bed. He was already gone. She took a breath, pushing down a surge of loneliness, and swung her feet out of bed. She had things to do.
Jonathan met her in the hallway, rubbing his eyes. Angela smiled down at him, and took his hand. "Good morning, baby! Let's get some breakfast." She was surprised with how close to sleeping half the day she'd actually gotten. She found herself extra cheery that morning, laying on thick the animated preschooler talk. She'd given Jonathan orange juice and a banana, and poured herself some coffee. He didn't finish his juice, so she did. "You know? That's not a bad combination," she said holding up both cups.
He didn't look at her as he squirmed to standing in his highchair. She put down the drinks, and set Jonathan on the floor. "Alright, baby. We've got some unpacking to do! Mommy needs to get back to work!" She marched upstairs, and put the laundry in the appropriate bins. She put on Sesame Street for Jonathan, and took a shower. Once she was all ready, Angela sat on the couch called the office.
"Anna? Hi, it's me."
"Oh, Mrs. Bower. I'm surprised to hear from you already."
"Yes, we made good time. Is the Heublein meeting all prepped? 11 color copies of everything?"
"Oh, Mr. Feldman was saying we don't need all that, that you'll have it on the projector."
"What?- No. No, these people have a very precise way of doing things. They aren't even going to give us an answer tomorrow. They need the paperwork to take with them." What was he thinking? He knows this is big! "Okay, look, Anna, I still need those copies laid out. Just have them in the board room by 8 am tomorrow, along with the transparencies."
Angela felt a lot of hesitancy on the other end of the line. "Um…what? Um, where are they?"
Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Angela strove for calm. "The transparencies for the projector. The graphs, the reports…the 23 pages in the folder on my desk. I needed 11 hard copies of each, and all of them on transparencies. I left you a note."
"Oh, Mrs. Bower. I didn't see that. When Mr. Feldman said we didn't need the hard copies, I just cancelled the order at the printers. I assumed you had what you needed to run the meeting. I didn't know the transparencies were a part of that same order."
Angela could feel sweat bleeding through her newly applied makeup. Damage control. She spoke calmly. "Anna, I need those printed. Can you please bring that file down to them ASAP, and put in a rush order?"
Anna spoke nervously, "Yes, ma'am, I can, but it's already almost 2. I don't think they'll be able to process that this afternoon."
Angela dropped back down to the couch, and tipped her head back. She's right. Angela took a breath, and thought quickly. "Okay, I'm coming in. Make sure the boardroom is polished - Peterson left chip crumbs under the table last week. And make sure the donut order is in at Cohen's."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Alright. I'll see you before close of business. Bye."
"Bye."
Angela ran upstairs and changed as fast as she could into slacks and a blouse. I'm wearing flats today! Lugging a box of paper and a toddler around – Angela's scurrying stopped, and she looked up. A toddler… Angela ran to the phone, and called her mother. No answer. She could still drop him off at daycare, but no one would be there to pick him up on time. Taking a breath, she called Michael.
"Hello?"
"Michael, it's me," Angela rushed. "I really need to get into the office today. I have a huge meeting tomorrow, and I don't have what I need for it. I'm rushing to see if I can salvage this. If I bring you Jonathan, can you take him home with you?"
Silence.
"Yeah, whatever…I'm leaving at 5."
His clipped tone hurt, though she didn't know why. She'd already decided that she understood their relationship, that she rather preferred him angry with her. Why does it still have to hurt?
"Thank you," she said quietly.
"Yeah," Michael answered, annoyed and hung up.
Angela held the receiver, feeling a surpassing emptiness start from the bridge of her nose, and explode outward in all directions. She swallowed, and hung up the phone.
Angela trudged into the house that night, and dumped her jacket and purse onto the hall tree. She kicked off her shoes, and slumped to the couch. It cost me 7 hours, a trip to Jersey, and probably this blouse, but at least it's done. She wasn't used to doing the grunt work, but with her name on the line, she was going to make it happen. Heublein was a massive buyer, and she did not want to lose them – especially over something stupid. At least Michael took Jonathan. Michael… I should probably find him. She was exhausted, and now noticed she was actually quite thirsty, like her senses were returning to her, single file. She pushed herself off the couch, and went into the kitchen.
She saw Michael sitting at the kitchen table, reading a paper, and drinking a soda. "Hey," she said softly, giving him a slight smile. She walked to the fridge, and got herself a soda, too.
He looked up from his paper at her, but didn't answer.
Everything was so cold and thick. Angela debated sitting down, but that felt intrusive, considering what he was offering. But she really didn't feel like waiting around for his silence to "just have an impact" before he spoke. So, she walked toward the swinging door. "I'm gonna," she said, letting her thumb toward the door explain the rest.
"It's 9 o'clock, Angela."
Angela gathered her wits, her gratitude notwithstanding his patronizing attitude. "Yes…"
"Where were you? You dumped Jonathan at my office five hours ago."
"Do you really want to hear the story? Or do you just want to be mad at me?"
"I think I'll take both."
Angela sighed. "Look, Michael. I needed printouts of reports for my meeting, along with transparencies for the presentation. There was a mix-up at the office last week, and the order was cancelled. This account would bring in millions, and I can't go in there with grainy, black and white copies. I have to show them we're serious and professional. But nobody normally does last minute printing. I called everywhere, and found a family-run print shop in Jersey, and for a small fortune, they were willing to fire up the presses. I had to run the reports there myself, wait 'till they were done, lug the box of papers back to my office, and make sure everything was set for tomorrow. I haven't even eaten today, besides the juice and coffee I had at noon."
"You woke up at noon?"
Angela rolled her eyes. "Shit, what do you want from me? Am I ever allowed to be human?"
"No one else seems to think you are."
Angela had had enough. "Alright, Michael. What is this really about?"
"You. You prance around, making demands on people, taking all the credit for how successful you are," Michael said with a twinge of derision.
"When? What are you talking about?"
"At my parents' house. The whole weekend, you wouldn't shut up. We finally have a quiet moment, and then my brother and dad-" he looked off to collect himself.
Angela's surging storm of hurt and anger hesitated. "What?" she asked.
"Nothing we didn't already know. It's just obvious to everyone how little you need me." His hurt hardened, and he squinted at her. "Except that maybe you kind of do…"
"Of course, I do. I'm not sure why I'm paying for their opinion, but there's no way I can do everything I need to do without you."
"So, that's why you wanted to marry me? So you could still have it all?"
"What? Why do you twist everything I say? I love you! I love Jonathan. And yes, I love my job, but I'm not keeping you around so I don't have to hire a nanny!"
"What about so you don't look like someone who had to hire a nanny?"
"What? What is it with you and perceptions? I just want to be with you. I want you to want to be with me. Why won't you understand that?!"
He looked her in the eye and answered quietly. "Because I've been fighting for their approval my whole life. And you come in, with considerable help from me, and they think I'm in it for the free ride."
Her face softened, but she was still determined. "Well, I don't." Truthfully, I don't know why you're here, but that's not it.
He continued to hold eye contact for a few seconds, then looked away, shaking his head. "Look, it's whatever."
Herself not knowing how much more she wanted to unearth, she agreed. "Yeah…" she said softly.
"I'm going to take a walk."
Angela nodded, and Michael walked out the back door. She plunked down into a chair, holding her unopened soda in both of her hands. Her stomach growled loudly, but she couldn't eat a thing.
