June 1979 – Stamford Amtrak Station, CT
"Thanks, Mother. I appreciate you meeting me here," Angela said quietly, as she got Jonathan out of Mona's backseat.
Mona had twisted her upper body to look behind herself comfortably. "No biggie. There's no reason you should be driving from Fairfield every day." Mona eyed Angela as she came around to the front, carrying Jonathan. "Alright, Angela. What gives?"
Angela's eyebrows rose from her otherwise blank face, and she shrugged. "I found out we got the Heublein account today." Her mother waited for more. "It was a big account we pitched a couple weeks back. It took some finagling, but we got it. It's a really big deal."
Mona frowned. "Yeah, I can see how that could be disappointing…"
Angela rolled her eyes. She took a breath. "I just really want to celebrate, and I can't even tell Michael about it."
"Ahh…things still dicey after Chicago, huh?"
Angela nodded.
Mona sighed. "Well, shoot. That's really lousy, dear. You ought to be able to celebrate. Congratulations."
Angela nodded again, and gave her mother a one-sided smile of appreciation. "Thanks. Hey, I have to go. Michael's holding our seat on the train."
Mona nodded, but as Angela turned away, she called out to her. "Hey, Angela!"
Angela turned back toward her mother.
"Remember what I told you after you graduated. You're more than your accomplishments. You shouldn't have to hide them, but that's not all you are. Remember that."
Angela squinted slightly, taking in her mother's counsel. Finally, she nodded. "Thanks, Mother."
Mona gave her daughter a wink, and then turned her shoulders to back out of the parking space. Angela watched her mother leave, and a smile of hope appeared on her face. Turning, she walked back onto the train.
June 1979 – Fairfield, CT
Angela kept a steady 5mph gait. All through her workout, Angela thought about what her mother had said. She's right. I shouldn't have to keep good news to myself. I'm mad as hell about it. But he was cruelly attacked back there, and I guess I don't have to rub his nose in it.
I don't know why I'm even thinking this way. I've got bigger problems than sharing news. We've barely more than acknowledged each other these last two weeks. He does his thing. I do mine. That one time he tried a goodbye kiss at Grand Central was so awkward. Neither of us want to go through that again.
We're both ready for the stalemate to be over, but nothing's resolved. I made those ridiculous resolutions about how our relationship is, like that was sustainable. She rolled her eyes just thinking about it. What if I just accepted that he doesn't like my job, and love him anyway? Maybe Mother is right. Maybe I should quit trying to get him to be proud of me at work, and just be the rest of me with him?
It felt like such a loss. So much of what she thought of herself, and what excited her came from her job. To leave that behind…she didn't know who she'd be without it. And it's not like conflicts aren't going to arise. I need him all the time. Me just acting like it's no big deal that he has to cover for me isn't going to help. Of course, I'm not that thrilled with him acting like what I do for Jonathan is no big deal, either…
She clicked past another mile on the treadmill, and used the armband to wipe the sweat out of her eyes.
Truthfully, she was still ticked. She didn't want things to go on like they were, but she needed some kind of official pardon from him. This was not my fault. I fixed what indiscretions I'd made as best as I could. Do we have to keep on being miserable?
Angela's worried brows stayed that way until she was distracted by a song playing over the loudspeakers. That's kind of bouncy, she smiled. She hadn't heard it before. Maybe she could meet him halfway. They both loved music…maybe tonight can be as best of a reconciliation as we can have. I'm not ready to lay my heart out on a plate any time soon, but do I have to? Can I just hold back the vulnerable parts of me, and just get along otherwise? Angela toughed through that last mile, and slowed to a walk. Jumping off the treadmill, she powerwalked to the showers.
Angela walked in the front door with her duffel bag and wet hair. Everything was quiet. I wonder if he got Jonathan to bed already. She dumped her bag on the floor by couch, and heard a loud, "Shit!" come from upstairs. Not two seconds later, she heard Jonathan cry. Sighing, Angela walked up the stairs to see how she could help.
Jonathan's room was dark, except for a nightlight. Michael was standing straight up, near the door, with one hand on his hip and the other on his forehead, looking like he was about to rip his own face off.
Jonathan was in his bed, wailing. Suppressing her desire to calm her son, Angela walked up to Michael and put a hand on his arm.
"Are you okay?" she asked concerned.
"I stubbed my toe on that stupid, bouncing horse! I'd just gotten him down, too!"
She gave him a compassionate half-smile and rubbed his arm. "I'm sorry, honey. I got him."
Michael sighed, then nodded as he limped out of the room.
Turning to Jonathan, Angela sat down next to his bed and stroked his hair, making shushing noises. She was surprised, but it took less than twenty minutes to get him back to sleep.
Angela pushed herself to standing, and walked quietly out of the room. She saw a light coming from their bathroom, and walked into their room. She turned the radio on low, and continued into the bathroom. Michael had clearly taken a shower, and was standing in a towel by the sink. His head was dropped to his chest, and he was leaning against the sink, his hands apart on the counter.
Even for Michael, this would be a bit dramatic for just a stubbed toe. She walked up and tried to breach him. "Hey," she said quietly.
"What's up?" he clipped.
Steeling herself against the pain of their situation, she swallowed and tried again. "I was wondering if you were okay."
He looked over at her blankly, not changing his posture. "No. I'm not."
Angela held eye contact, but softened her face. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" he scoffed. "What's right? Jonathan won't listen to me. It took me 45 minutes to get him down. Then I smashed my toe on that stupid horse. You and I are in shambles. And I just found out today that our return trip to Angola is indefinitely postponed due to political turmoil in the region." He looked up into the mirror. "We were going after gorillas this time," he said wistfully. He shook his head and stood upright. Turning to her, he flapped his arms out, and said, "And it's over." He let his arms slap down to his sides.
She looked at him with compassion, and tried to focus on the gorilla problem, as opposed to their marriage being in "shambles".
"I'm sorry," she said quietly.
She felt the distrust in the way he looked at her, but could only hold his gaze. She was sad for him. Even though she was glad the Institute had enough sense not to send them into a madhouse, she was sad he wouldn't get this opportunity he wanted so much.
Finally, he dropped eye contact, and nodded a bit. He sulked out of the bathroom, and turned to look back at her from the shadows by their bed. "Why are you talking to me anyway?"
Good question. Why did she want to rise from this? -she could only fall violently back in. Angela looked down, searching for an answer that wouldn't make everything worse.
"Because shambles is a really bad place to be," she said quietly. She glanced up at Michael for just a second. "And I don't like it."
She just wanted a breath. She knew she couldn't have it all; she wasn't ready to give it. But if she could just extend whatever they had, she felt like she could extend her life.
She walked toward him slowly, feeling brave enough to at least stare at where his towel met his toned stomach. He's so handsome. The Bee Gees were singing Love You Inside Out in the darkness, and her husband didn't move.
She got to where she was less than a foot away, still staring at his stomach and still slowly closing the gap, and she whispered, "I know we aren't okay; I'm really afraid of getting close. But whenever I talk myself into staying away," her gaze rose cautiously to his face. "I forget how much scarier that is." They stood there, inches apart, Michael looking down at Angela's timid eyes. "Do we have to be everything to each other?" she said with a tremor in her voice. "Can we just be what we're able to be?"
She drew rapid strength from his softened eyes. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Probably not," he said sadly. She felt like he'd hit her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears to stay inside. "But we're already here. And we can't be anything more than that."
She opened her eyes, and a tear fell from each into her newly lit smile. Michael put his arms around her, and pulled her securely to him, kissing her with a smile of his own.
A/N: I do try to research, but I know some of the situations I've written about have fallen through the cracks. I appreciate your grace in overlooking these. In this instance, I have no idea if one would be able to jump off at an Amtrak station, to pick up another passenger, before the train continued to its next stop. It's just ridiculous that Angela would have to drive so far to get Jonathan every night, after already stopping in Stamford, on her way to Fairfield. (If you're wondering, I sleep at night under the assumption that Jonathan is now in a Cos Cob daycare, and Mona drives him to and from. Perhaps, someday I'll work that into the story. xD ) I do know there is a Stamford station near Cos Cob, and a Bridgeport station near Fairfield. But they could easily have been built after this time. I'm going to ask your continued patience with me as I just wave my magic wand, and all those pesky facts disappear. Ha! You guys are the best!
