December 1980 – Fairfield, CT

Michael got up from the wingback chair, and pulled a present wrapped in red paper from underneath the tree. "This is for you, Little Tiger." Jonathan's eyes zeroed in on the treasure as he waited for his daddy to hand it to him. "Everybody in Rwanda loves these." Jonathan eagerly shredded the paper, and smiled in wonderment when he saw it. "It's a drum! You use those sticks to beat it."

Angela's eyes widened in horror. Not the time, Angela…

Jonathan immediately started whacking the top. "Thank you, Daddy!"

"You're welcome!" Michael bellowed, smiling widely down at his son. Angela swallowed. She tilted her head at the scene. It's actually really cute… Aww, he loves it. She looked up at Michael, standing above Jonathan, and smiled. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that he left when he did. Jonathan's okay, and he loves what Michael brought him. Jonathan continued to thump on the drum delightedly.

She rose from the other chair, and stepped up to Michael. Hanging on his neck, she used her tiptoes to get close to his ear. "That was really sweet," she smiled in a low voice. He grinned at her, barely inches away.

Letting her go, he reached under the tree. He stood back up, and took her hand, leading her to sit in the chair again. She did, all the while watching his mysterious face. He squatted down next to her.

"I got to bum around Johannesburg for a day or so on my way home." He handed her a skinny, flat box in silver paper with a white bow. Angela looked from his face to the box, and smiled shyly. Jonathan continued to serenade them in the background as she slowly ripped the paper. Carefully opening the box, she found a glimmering, diamond bracelet snaked out flat on the velvet cushion. She gasped. There are at least 4 carats on this thing. Her gaze slowly moved back up to his face and she smiled, almost not understanding. With a hesitant expression, he asked, "Do you like it?" Angela nodded silently, not looking away. I really like it. I can't believe it. I half expected him to get me a space-age sleeping bag, or a portable water filter for Christmas. But these aren't just gifts he wants us to like. They're gifts we actually do like. Some soft part of her heart felt seen and valued, and dusting it off, she leaned forward, and slowly slipped her tongue far along the roof of his mouth. She lifted her right hand to gently brace his jaw. Her lips cushioned the push forward, and she tilted her head to pull back on the side, nabbing his bottom lip briefly on the retreat. She opened her eyes to look in his. "Thank you," she said softly.

He smiled kindly at her. "Merry Christmas."


December 1980 – The Geographic Institute, NYC

Michael's boss knocked on the door to the editing room. "Michael? Mind if I get the lights?"

Michael turned his head over his shoulder. "Nah, sure. G'head, Mr. Talbot."

Talbot flicked on the lights, and walked over to where Michael was viewing film. His boss turned around, and leaned against the desk with his arms folded. "There's no easy way to say this, Michael, but the board doesn't want to go ahead with the Africa trips right now."

Michael's eyes widened. "Bu-But I showed them- I made up the ROI… I showed them how much money they'll save using our new guy-" he stammered.

Talbot cut him off, with a gentle wave of his hands. "I know, I know. I'd say you were even conservative about it, but it isn't the numbers. They still feel the area is too risky."

"I went there! It's fine."

Talbot breathed out a slim stream of air. "Yeah, they weren't too pleased I authorized that."

Michael drew back a little, acknowledging the hit he must've taken. Michael let out a quick breath. "So, it was all for nothing?"

Talbot's eyebrows rose, considering. "No, I don't think so. I'm still hoping we'll be able to use your research to flagship another approach. But I don't think it's going to be any time soon."

Michael sunk backward into his chair, and closed his eyes.

Talbot rose, and put a hand on Michael's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Michael. I know you were looking forward to this." He patted his shoulder briefly before walking out of the room. "At least you've got the condor trip coming up."


December 1980 – Grand Central Station, NYC

Angela took a few aimless steps as she waited for Michael. She smiled down at her bracelet, spinning it whimsically around her wrist. I can't wait to see him. They'd had an enchanted couple of days since Christmas, and the only word she could think of was twitterpated. She giggled to herself.

"You ready?" Michael said out of nowhere, roughly yanking her from her daydream.

Angela's brows dipped. Not again… oh, please, not yet. "Yeah," she said softly, looking cautiously up at his angry face. They walked toward their train. "What's wrong?"

Michael shook his head, but wouldn't look at her. He kept walking. She followed, and they found seats silently. She didn't know what to do. She didn't think he should always have to be happy, but it felt like if he was mad, he was mad at her. And that hurt. That was scary. But she didn't know how to fix it. Traitorous images of his beautiful smile, and his heavy body pressed onto hers just this morning, flashed in her mind. She turned her head to the window, and held her eyes shut. Instantly alone.

Thankfully, her mother was in a hurry that day, and didn't pick at her quiet. Angela colored with Jonathan for the remainder of the train ride, barely daring to glance at Michael.

"I'm gonna go for a run," Michael said as he dumped his briefcase and coat on the hall tree. Angela nodded, not that he looked.

He came home more than three hours later. Angela was still in Jonathan's darkened room. He'd fallen asleep, but she was still laid out on the floor by his bed. She stared silently at the diamonds through her swollen eyes. The nightlight gleamed off of them, as she tried to figure out what was true and what wasn't. She had some dreary numbers to balance on the turnpike account, but even a change in content couldn't have made her more interested. She didn't want to change into her pajamas. She didn't want to brush her teeth. She just wanted to lie there, and be held by the floor.

Michael opened the door, and leaned in. He looked down at Angela, the light from the hallway making her squint.

"Hey," he whispered. She gave him a little wave at the wrist. "You coming out?"

She sighed internally. Here we go.

She pushed herself up, and quietly tiptoed out of the room. He frowned when he saw her face. "You okay?"

Crap. My mascara. She sighed. Oh, well. "Yeah, I'm fine," she whispered, waving it off, and distanced herself from his scrutiny as much as from her peacefully sleeping son.

Michael followed her into their room, and shut the door. "You sure?"

She nodded, and continued into the bathroom. I wish he'd stop acting like he cares. I don't know how much more I can say no to. She washed her face and brushed her teeth, trying to elicit a bedtime routine. She changed into her silk, pajama pant set, and finally looked up at him on her way to their bed. "How was your run?" she asked, grasping at detachment.

Michael looked at her silently, his freshly washed hair shining in the light from the bathroom. He didn't answer her, but turned to undress. He stepped into his flannel pajama bottoms, swiped the bathroom light off, and got into bed. Again searching her blank face for several seconds, he finally sighed, "Goodnight, Angela." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, then turned over to his side. Angela curled away from him onto hers, and buried her face in her pillow.


August 1981 – Augusta Preschool. Fairfield, CT

"To your left is the recently updated playground. It's always maintained vigilantly by our trained groundskeepers, but now there is a brand new, jungle gym addition for the coming school year," the tour guide said proudly.

Angela crouched down to Jonathan, who was staring at the magical sight. "Do you see that, Jonathan?" He nodded excitedly, and turned to her, "Can I go play on it?"

"I'm sorry, honey. That's for the school day."

Jonathan crinkled his face, but Angela shook her head and looked at him seriously. "No fits. I can take you to the park after we're done."

Jonathan kept scowling, but didn't whine. Angela stood up, and took his hand. Jonathan looked longingly at the monkey bars, as his mother pulled him gently toward the rest of the group walking inside.

Angela came up behind a woman who had her daughter in long blonde pigtails. As cute as the little girl was, it was the mother who caught Angela's eye. She was clearly trying to pull up sagging nylons without being noticed. Not looking her in the eye, Angela whispered next to her face, "I've got you covered." Angela stepped in front of the woman, blocking her from the view of the others in the narrow hallway. Angela heard some shuffling behind her, as she tried to make her stance casually wider. After a few seconds and a quick puff of relief, the woman stepped up next to Angela.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Angela turned to smile down at her. "No problem. Been there." They shared a knowing look, and chuckled softly as they kept up with the group.

"You look a little familiar," the woman said.

"Oh, you've probably seen me around the neighborhood. We've lived here three years. I'm Angela Bower," she said holding out her hand.

The woman took it. "Wendy Wittner."

They looked back to check their kids behind them. Jonathan had a tiny frog in his hands, and was showing it to the captivated little girl. Angela's eyes bugged out, and she whispered frantically, "Jonathan, where'd you get that?"

"Outside," he said innocently.

Angela looked around furiously, and Wendy laughed.

"Isn't it cute, Mom?" the little girl said to Wendy.

"Yup, and so is your buddy. Did you introduce yourself?"

Angela started to breathe a little easier. The confused girl looked up at her mother through her large, circular glasses.

"Tell him your name," Wendy said to her daughter.

"I'm Jenny," she said to Jonathan.

Angela squatted down next to Jonathan, having briefly forgotten about the frog. "Now you tell her your name."

"Jonathan," he said and blinked, clearly not understanding the ritual or its importance.

"Come on, you two. Let's catch up with the group!" Wendy smiled.

"Don't let that thing go, Jonathan. We'll wash your hands later," Angela whispered, as they nudged the kids in front of them.

They finished their tour. Everybody took their brochures and paperwork, and walked outside. Jenny and Jonathan were still cavorting around the frog, so Angela walked up to Wendy. "I told Jonathan I'd take him to the park afterward, so he wouldn't throw a fit about not getting to play on the playground."

"Ha! I got out of it with a Hershey's kiss from my purse."

Angela fake chastised herself with a harsh nod. "I'm going to have to start carrying those for Jonathan."

Wendy's eyes narrowed just a tad. "Riiiight. For Jonathan," she smiled.

Angela laughed, "Do you ladies want to join us?"

Wendy thought. "Anders Park?"

Angela nodded.

"I tell you what. We'll meet you there in fifteen minutes."

Angela frowned a little, confused, but said, "Okay."


Angela sat on the bench while Jonathan climbed the high, metal slide. "Careful, honey! It's going to be hot!"

"I know!" Jonathan yelled.

Sighing, Angela leaned back against the bench. Jenny ran from behind her to the slide with Jonathan. Angela turned her head to look for Wendy just as she plopped down onto the bench next to her. Wendy handed her a cold, glass bottle.

"What is it?"

"It's a wine cooler. Just came out. Give it a go."

Angela laughed, "Sounds great! Thank you. But is it legal to drink here?"

"Quiet, Saturday afternoon, late in the summer? I'm sure the police are having barbecues with harder stuff than this," Wendy saluted her with her bottle and took a swig.

Angela's eyebrows went up, but took a drink. "Oh, that's delicious! It's like sangria!"

Wendy nodded, knowingly. "So, you've been here three years?"

Angela nodded.

"What does your husband do?" she said nodding at the ring on Angela's finger.

"Uh, he's a producer for The Geographic Institute, making animal documentaries."

"Locally?" she asked, confused.

Angela laughed sharply, "Hardly. He goes everywhere. His last assignment was filming condors in Peru."

Wendy's eyebrows shot up. "Wow!"

"Yeah, it's pretty amazing…" Angela said distantly.

Wendy waited a beat. "Lonely, huh?"

Angela looked over at her, and smiled sadly. "He just zigs when I zag. He's technically home for a bit, but I work in Manhattan, too. And we've just never been able to synch ourselves very well."

"Well, clearly, you can synch something," Wendy nodded at Jonathan.

Angela smiled slyly. "Yeah, that's one area we're good at." She twisted her face into exquisite torture, and popped a chef's kiss from her mouth.

Wendy laughed, and clapped. "Alright, Angela!"

Angela waited a beat or two, and her smile faded. "…It's just the rest that's the problem."

Wendy's mouth tipped sympathetically. "I getcha. I've got my own little trinket from happier times." Angela tilted her head, listening. "Herb's an orthodontist, and he's always working, here or out of town." She shrugged. "Even when he's home, there's so much - ugh! –between us, I'm just not even interested."

Angela clinked her bottle against Wendy's.

The women watched their kids play. Wendy started up again. "So, what do you do in Manhattan?"

"I'm a Vice President at Wallace & McQuade. It's an advertising agency."

"A Vice President? No kidding?" she exclaimed. "Good for you!"

Angela smiled widely. "Thanks." It was nice to talk to someone besides her mother who was genuinely happy for her success.

"And you husband's cool with that?"

Angela groaned.

"Ah, sorry. I get it," Wendy's mouth tipped a pitying smile. "Believe me."

"You wanted to work outside the home, too?"

Wendy scoffed. "Herb didn't even want me to keep working as a salesgirl at Macy's. Apparently, if your wife doesn't cook you dinner, you starve."

"You mean, your ego does," Angela said dryly.

Wendy laughed, "Yeah, I wonder how skinny he'd be if I were an advertising executive…" Angela laughed back. After a couple of seconds, Wendy sighed. "But hey, we moved to a nice neighborhood. Had a kid. It's okay. I think once Jenny's in school, we'll have more time for each other."

Angela's mind squinted at the thought. "I hope we do," she said looking off to the kids.

"So, how do you do all that?"

"Hmm?" Angela was gratefully pulled out of the dismal trajectory of her thoughts.

"How do you do all that? Who watches Jonathan, cleans your house, keeps your man fat…you know. How do you do it?"

Angela laughed. "Well, I wouldn't be looking to me for advice. But if it's just curiosity, I have a lot of help. Jonathan was going to daycare in Cos Cob, where my mother used to live. She'd drop him off and pick him up for us. We'd all take the train past there on our way to and from the city. But she just moved into an apartment complex here in Fairfield a few months ago. Nothing was really keeping her there anymore, with Jonathan starting up preschool soon. And I think she wants to be closer to us; more flexibility, less responsibilities, you know…" Wendy nodded. "But she's still willing to help get him to and from school for us.

"That's nice," Wendy acknowledged.

"Yeah, saying goodbye to that house hurt. I guess it felt like as long as she lived there, I still somehow had access to some really good times in my life. I keep telling myself she has to move on, too. But it's really hard." Wendy's tipped a half-smile. "And the worst part was saying goodbye to our cook, Carwen. I haven't lived there for years, but she was such a fixture in my life, a real good friend. But she's a lot older now, and it's probably better for her that she spends her time with her family…" Wendy nodded. "Anyway! - Ha! - I really babbled there…" She shook her head nervously trying to regroup. "Um, we have a housekeeper that comes in a few times a week, we take turns going to the gym, and I order take-out! Everything else gets triaged like everybody else does," she said with a shrug.

"Sounds like a killer system, to me."

"It is the death of me."

Wendy gave her another empathetic smile. "Crazy, isn't it? How a fantasy can be dashed the instant you get close enough to see how it really is?"

Angela returned the same smile. "I guess there's no perfect life."

Feeling more content than when she'd started talking and cheerier than when she'd started drinking, Angela looked over at her new friend. "I'm glad I met you, Wendy."

"Same here, Angela." Wendy took another sip. "Wait 'till you meet Isabel."

"Hmm?" Angela smiled.

"My best friend. She's a good one to talk to about this marriage stuff, too. It's contagious, I tell you. I'm starting to wonder if anyone's not infected."

Angela smiled sadly, and patted Wendy's shoulder. "Well, I could use the support, and I could certainly use a girls' night. I haven't hung out with a group of women since grad school."

Wendy smiled widely. "Now that is something we need to fix!"