August 1982 – Fairfield, CT

"We're a little early, honey, but just go, put your present over there," Angela nodded toward a table with pink streamers. Jonathan ran it over, then went to find Jenny.

"Angela! Where have you been, woman?" Wendy yelled as best as she could with a blown-up balloon in her mouth, and hands full of tape and ribbon.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Angela smiled, walking up to her nervously.

"I'd believe anything at this point! With me and Mona ferrying Jonathan around, I was starting to wonder if I'd just dreamt you up," Wendy said, tying a curly ribbon on the balloon.

"I know; I'm sorry," Angela said as she picked up a balloon. "My mother did give you the checks, right?" Wendy nodded, and Angela exhaled in relief. "…I guess I've been hiding."

"From me?"

Angela nodded, "And Isabel…and my mother…" Angela blew hard into the balloon to start it. Wendy let her dramatically confused expression propel the dialogue.

Angela blew up the balloon the rest of the way, using the time to think of the adequate excuse she hadn't been able to conjure for months. Putting the fully inflated balloon down, Angela stared at it as she tied it.

"I really stepped in it this time, Wendy..."

A beat went by.

Wendy's mouth opened into a significant half-smile, "Okay, so you know how to start a story. Let's try finishing it!"

Angela sighed, and walked over to Wendy's side of the table.

Angela looked at her and spoke quietly, "I kinda had a… thing. In Panama." Angela's anxiety sped up her speech. "I flipped out, decided I was done being tied to Michael. I had just had it. I was done with the antics and the endless fights…" She shook her head and looked down, tying a ribbon on her balloon.

A few more beats passed.

"Oh, you'd better keep going!" threatened Wendy's already open mouth.

Angela looked up at her with patience strained by both of them. "I gave Michael his ring back on my way to a club." Wendy's eyes got round and large. "Well, this guy there asked me to dance…" Angela let out a sharp laugh, "…and if we didn't have sex on that dance floor, it was only because my skirt was too tight."

Wendy's mouth fell further open. A little squeak-start of a reply came, but nothing else.

In light of her friend's incapacity and her own nervousness, Angela decided to expound. "Everything just kind of built up, and I guess I had been flirting with my boss a little on the phone and Michael saw it. Well, he got mad, and tried to get even. But to him, that meant drinking with his buddies while a busty girl hung all over him."

Wendy had long since stopped filling balloons. But when Angela paused, she gave blinking another try before encouraging Angela to continue.

"What'd you do," Wendy asked softly.

Angela shook her head, "I was shocked. I couldn't believe he went there! Like, as if everything else he'd done wasn't enough, now I'm dealing with this? Which sounds kind of ugly, but damn! He hurts me all the time! I never know what to do with Michael; he's such a loose cannon… But I swear, I never meant to hurt him with my boss. I didn't even realize I was flirting 'till he brought it up! And that's what struck me so much with Michael. He did this on purpose, unapologetically, right in my face. I just couldn't believe it. When he did that, it felt like everything he'd always done to hurt me had been done just as maliciously. I don't know if that's true, but that's how it felt!" Wendy nodded, looking scared. "It's like I saw exactly how alone I've always been. Then, when he started to justify it all, I was done. Like you said, 'what's good for the goose!'…" Wendy's reaching face started to shrink back a little.

"Well, I snapped, and left his ass at the hotel. But he followed me to the club, and, of course, we fought the whole way. I spat out everything I've been holding in all this time – right before I gave him back his ring."

Wendy gave a heavy exhale, "Wow."

"Yeah," Angela said seriously.

"So…Michael saw you and this guy?"

Angela's eyes narrowed. "OH, yeah. I made sure of it. …But then he got dance partner of his own." Angela could feel the tightness in her chest return, while something behind her nose started to burn. She looked down, erratically, then back up at Wendy. "It was awful, Wendy. We both started to out-sex the other one. By the end, I felt so sick. I couldn't watch it anymore. I couldn't do it anymore. It was disgusting. The things he did to her…the things he saw me do…" Angela's face contorted in increasing misery, and her voice could only escape in raspy squeaks. "I still see it. I still feel it. I still feel him!"

Wendy waited a second in growing comprehension. "It didn't feel bad did it?" Wendy asked compassionately.

Angela shook her pinched face furiously.

After a few seconds, Angela started to take deep breaths. Wendy looked up into her haunted face, "I'm sorry, Angela."

Angela voice was still strained. "That's not all…When I realized what I was really doing…I cared. I mean, I know I did all that on purpose, but I didn't! I was just so mad! So, when I went to walk away from this guy, I told Michael he'd won; I was done competing. I saw what we were doing, and…it was horrific." Angela sniffed. "Well, immediately, Michael goes after the guy I was dancing with. It was a full-on, John Wayne fight, right there in the club."

A laugh escaped Wendy, and she stifled herself, "Sorry. What happened?"

"The guy was stationed at Howard, and his two other military buddies joined in." Wendy's eyebrows rose wildly. "The three of them pulverized Michael. That's why we stayed longer, so he could heal enough to fly home." Reminded of her own rudeness, Angela diverted, "Thank you so much for helping with Jonathan. Really, I'm sorry. Everything has just been so fractured and…I really appreciate you. Thank you."

Wendy blinked again, and straightened, "What? No- I mean, that's fine. You're welcome. It's been great for Jenny to have a friend around, but… Wow. Ah-Are you okay? How are you? Are you guys splitting up? You came home together?"

Angela's eyebrows went up and down, considering. Then she shrugged, "I don't know. We did come home together. I couldn't leave him there - I didn't want to! I couldn't believe what I had done even more than I couldn't believe what he'd done. Everything just exponentiated, but I never imagined him getting beaten up like that." Angela's whole head fell to her chest, before looking back up. "Wendy, I've never seen anyone that- he looked like he'd been hit by a truck! His whole face was swollen in different places, broken bones, cuts and bruises. I did that!" Angela volleyed her head around in misery, considering. "Well- he wouldn't have had that happen if it weren't for me." Angela squared up to Wendy, "Even when I was doing my best to hurt his feelings with that other guy, I didn't want him to get hurt like that. Hell, I didn't even really want to hurt his feelings. I thought I did. But really, I just wanted to shake him up. Let him see exactly how vicious he is with me all the time; how fed up I am…how hurt I am. But I don't know that either of us learned anything very valuable at all." Angela wiped a tear away. "I'm still angry. I'm angry at how much of this is a game to him. I'm angry that he did all that with such calculation. I know I did it, too. But mine felt like vomit. His felt like voodoo. I know it looks the same on paper. But it does not feel the same. He's always seemed so much more in control of us than I am. It's like he's fucking Geppetto, and I just want to be a real boy – or well, you know: wife," she shrugged.

Wendy paused, then shook away her own confused face. She approached Angela carefully, "Actually, I think you proved that you're not without options here."

"I've proved I'm not good with my options!"

"Oh, stop it. You made a bad choice," at Angela's annoyed look, she continued. "…Okay, a really bad choice. But you're not stuck with Michael."

"Yeah, that's what I told myself that night, right before I met, 'Tucker'…" Angela snapped the knot of the balloon in dismissal.

"Tucker, huh?" Wendy considered.

"Wendy," Angela challenged sternly.

"Sorry," Wendy exhaled sheepishly and refocused. "But you really aren't stuck. I mean it. You don't have to stay with Michael."

Angela looked up at Wendy with pain on her face, "But I love him. I realized that, seeing him all beaten up, for me – or, I don't know, maybe for him. But for whomever…we are connected. Deeply. This - our marriage - means something. To both of us."

Angela sighed, and preemptively rolled her eyes, "I know sex isn't everything, but…when he touches me…" she shut her eyes, trying to find the words. "It is a point-blank reality between the two of us, in a way we don't have in anything else. Wendy, I know this man. I know his BS. This isn't BS. Yes, we hate each other, but I think we love each other just as much."

"Were you expecting not to?"

Angela tilted her head in confusion, "Huh?"

"Were you expecting to just hate him if you wanted to walk away?"

Angela thought for several seconds. She looked down. "Yeah…" she answered quietly.

Wendy's lower lip dropped in sympathy. She gave Angela a tight hug. "I don't think that's gonna happen, sweetie."

Angela started to cry as they hugged, and Wendy squeezed her tighter. After a minute, Wendy let go. Angela sniffed and wiped her eyes.

Wendy exhaled. "So, where are you now?"

"I tell you, the first month or two everything was so cold and stiff."

Wendy nodded.

"But then, we warmed up to each other a little. I don't think either one of us wants to hurt the other one anymore." Angela looked down, then back up to Wendy. "I mean, we might. But I don't think we want to. I- I don't know that we can stay together; we both did way too good of a job making our points, and we're both probably still mad about everything leading up to this. But we're also both pretty skittish right now, and it's hard to understand exactly where we are."

"That sounds kind of…good, actually. Right? Taking it easy?"

"Yeah…it's better than the building tension. It's better than the blow-up. But we can't stay here. You know, the funny thing is, I still don't know why he's always been so mad at me. I understand the flirting part, and I apologized profusely. I really am sorry. I don't want to do that, to Michael or to me. I mean, my boss is a good looking guy… He's commanding and charming. And he thinks I'm-"

"Angela," Wendy warned.

Angela waved her hands quickly, "But yeah, he's not Michael. All we've been through. All he's been to me. Michael is where I'm welcomed and validated, as a woman. I guess that's why it hurt so much to see him "welcoming" someone else." She gave a self-deprecating snort, "It's probably why Michael got in such a tizzy himself…despite how little it took to set him off. ...But when he let that woman hang all over him – it's like, that was my spot. And he gave it away." Angela's now-quiet words came with an eyeful of tears that didn't fall.

"Well, you know I can empathize with that." Wendy's angry jaw was unable to keep her eyes from filling. After a second, she smiled a little, "It sounds like you know Michael can, too."

"Yeah, I just didn't realize I was doing it. When I did, I felt awful. Michael jumped in with both feet!"

"I know," Wendy put a light hand to Angela's head, and in a motherly fashion, ran it a little down her hair.

Angela was still worked up. "But beside the flirting- what? He's mad that I'm working? I don't get it. I only understand that he's mad; extremely so. All the time. It just doesn't seem like a good enough reason to wreak the havoc that he does, to hurt me so much. And despite our blow-up, I don't think any of that has changed."

"So…this could all happen again?"

As Angela nodded, her exasperated face slowly morphed to terror.

"Shit," Wendy ratified.

"Indeed," Angela whispered, but after a couple seconds, she regrouped. "But if he's just mad that I'm working… I- I'm not going to stop working so he won't be mean to me. I love my job, and I'm good at it - it's my gifting. He's passionate about his; I don't want to stand in the way of that. I just don't see how he can let something like this ruin us…"

"Well, that might be over-simplifying it." Wendy scrunched her face a little, "It sounds like he may have an issue with your boss."

Angela nodded quickly, "Oh, he does! He hates him. But what am I supposed to do? Quit every job where I'd be working with attractive men?" Angela huffed and folded her arms. "That kind of narrows the market a bit."

"Dang, I wish I had your job…" Wendy slipped wistfully.

In a hit of sobriety, Angela softened and shook her head. "Don't wish for this," she said quietly.

Wendy sighed and refocused, "You think anywhere you work, he'd be upset?"

"If there were anyone who he thought could possibly be competition, certainly." Angela let out a little laugh, "…But you know? He was always this way, even before he'd met any of my co-workers. I don't know that it's the men. I think it's the job."

Wendy eyebrows acquiesced, but offered, "My guess is the men don't help."

Angela scoffed, "More likely, they symbolize everything that's always been a problem with us." At Wendy's confused look, Angela explained. "The competition. We're always competing, and I have no idea why. Maybe the men just give his normal jealousy a face to hate."

Wendy gave Angela a sympathetic expression. She sighed and thought for a few seconds, "Hey, Angela, look, the party's gonna start in a couple minutes, but…you know, in any competition, I'd take your side in a heartbeat, if only to spite the guy…and specifically this. – Crap, we both know how stupid he's being, throwing his weight around 'cause you have an awesome job. But we also both know what it feels like to have our "spot" given away. Don't discount his feelings in that, okay? Even if the punishment didn't seem to fit the crime. Just remember how that felt. I do."

Angela held her gaze for a couple seconds then finally nodded. Wendy smiled and gave her a hug.

Wendy looked at Angela with a newfound fear in her eyes. "Angela, thirteen preschoolers are about to take over my lawn. Do you think anyone will notice if I leave?"

"Ohhh!" Angela put her hand to Wendy's cheek and laughed.


When Jonathan was the last party guest remaining, Angela walked around the backyard, picking up paper cups. When she got an armful, she brought them to the trashcan.

"Thanks, Angela," Wendy said, puffing a lock of hair out of her face.

"No problem," Angela smiled. "So, Jenny's five? Are you going to put her in Kindergarten?"

"Yeah, I know she's close to the cut-off for birthdays, but she's been doing well in preschool. I think she'll be fine. What about Jonathan?"

"He doesn't turn five until November," Angela said with a disappointed half-smile.

"How's he doing with school? Do you think he could keep up? It really depends on the kid. Some kids make the cut-off, but they're just not ready, either academically or socially or whatever."

Angela tilted her head, considering, "That's true… Jonathan already reads quite well, and he's starting to understand simple addition. He's not that far from the cut-off date…and I know it would be rough on him if he didn't move up with Jenny."

Wendy nodded, "I know the chairman at Franklin Academy; they're a little more flexible than the public schools. I'm sure you could get him in if you explain the circumstances, and have them interview him."

Angela laughed and shook her head, "Interviewing to be a kindergartener…"

"That's the way it's done, my friend."

"I guess we do what we've got to do," Angela shrugged, and walked around the yard to pick up more trash.

Maybe Jonathan being in school would be good for all of us.