September 22, 1984 – Fairfield, CT
At 7:30am, Tony tossed Jonathan an old baseball cap in the foyer, "Here, Champ. Every guy needs a hat."
Jonathan stopped zipping up his jacket to catch it and looked up at Tony in wonder, "For keeps?"
"Yeah, for keeps. Now, come on! We gotta get to the playground before the preschoolers get their parents up and out of the house." Tony laughed at his own joke while Jonathan reverently put on the hat.
Tony called up the stairs. "Sam! Pre-breakfast walk! Let's hit it, let's move it, let's do it!"
"Coming!" Sam yelled from her room. A few seconds later, she thundered down the stairs, dragging her jean jacket. "I'm ready!"
"Alright! Let's go!" Tony jogged the seven feet to the door, then spun around. "Jonathan, did you say goodbye to your mom? She'll probably be gone before we get back."
Jonathan's eyes opened wide, "Oops!" He sprinted up the stairs to where Angela was sitting on her bed, pulling long calfskin boots up over her brown corduroy trousers.
He ran up to her and gave her a quick hug, "Bye, Mom!"
Angela took the split second to soak in her son's affection. Since Tony and Sam moved in, even the residual cloud of anger over Jonathan's face had all but lifted and so had her heart. "Goodbye, sweetheart!" she squeezed him back, beyond grateful for the opportunity.
Jonathan grinned widely and waved as he ran out of her room. Angela stared after him. She heard Tony marching his mini-platoon to the playground and was again flooded with gratitude. He's so good for him.
Angela smiled. He's good for me, too.
She didn't know how this morning was going to go with Grant picking her up. She wasn't ready to introduce Grant to Jonathan, and she wasn't interested in bringing Jonathan into her decision to start dating yet, anyway.
She'd been mulling over the possible logistics of the situation while she sat on the couch last night. Tony had bumped open the swinging door with his hip and steadied over a cup of tea. Handing it to her carefully, he, out of the blue, offered to take the kids to the park in the morning. Angela had bitten her lip and made a shy, grateful smile up at him. He's so good at this. I'm not used to asking for help, and he anticipates everything. …Is this what it's like having an ally?
Now still looking toward the stairs, Angela could hear the trio's happy voices carry from down the driveway. After everything we've been through…she wiped away a pesky tear and smiled. Tony is a respite.
Grant pulled up right on time. Angela had lugged her suitcase down the stairs with the power of gravity and was fixing her puffy ponytail in the halltree's mirror.
Grant knocked on the door and she opened it.
In khakis and a white and green collegiate sweater, he smiled, "Hey, beautiful."
Angela's smile froze, as did her now-wide eyes. "H-hi," she stumbled.
Grant's brows scrunched a little. "What's wrong?"
Angela collected herself, "Oh, uh- nothing." Doing her best to remain present, she shook her head and reached for her suitcase. Grant was faster.
"I got it," he looked at her suspiciously, but she smiled.
"Thank you."
Grant nodded and Angela grabbed her purse. "Ready to go?" she asked a little too happily while she twisted the lock on the doorknob.
"Sure," his slower voice countered. He held open the door for her, and they walked silently to his car.
As he pulled out of the subdivision, Grant exhaled. "Alright, what was that?"
There had been a time not too long ago when Angela would've continued to toy with nonchalance. But, at least in this moment, it seemed to her like a waste of time.
She sighed. "I…have a history with, 'Hey, beautiful'," she said, using finger quotes.
Grant laughed, "Well, you can't fault men for that. Have a heart, woman."
Angela smiled endearingly, "No, I mean that exact phrase calling up specific moments I'd rather forget."
Grant's realization came with a half-smile. "Michael?"
"…at the very least."
Grant's brows scrunched again, but he paused.
She brushed it off, "Never mind."
They drove in silence for a while. Then Grant popped in a cassette but kept the volume low. "Is this okay?" he asked her.
'Good Golly Miss Molly' came on, and Angela tried hard to mask her smirk with a smile, "Absolutely." I was barely in elementary school when this came out.
They didn't say anything for a while, and Grant looked over at Angela again. "You sure you're okay?" Her return smile wasn't convincing enough.
Grant waited. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
"Ah, so you need to," he pushed.
"Probably," she dropped her lids half-way down. "But we already have experience with these wet blankets, and they're not a lot of fun."
"Well, we're also stuck in the car for three and a half hours."
She turned her shoulders toward him and popped up her eyebrows. "You first."
"What?"
"What happened with you and Holly?"
Grant rolled his eyes, "Shit."
Angela laughed and folded her arms, "Let's have it."
Grant managed to follow her laughter. "Okay…" he said, steadying himself. "Uh, we grew up together. Our families were close friends and it just kind of happened naturally."
Angela nodded, listening. "Where'd you grow up?"
"New Hampshire - Londonderry. My father was an investment banker, and Dartmouth rowing legacy - so of course, I was, too," he said, motioning to his sweater." Angela tipped her head back, understanding.
"Did you go to college together?"
"Women couldn't go there for a few more years, but she went to Vassar."
Angela nodded, "Mine was the first class at Yale to allow women."
Grant looked at her, redirecting. "Yeah, about that: Why did you go to Yale for undergrad and then get your MBA from Harvard?"
Angela looked at him, frozen.
"Oh, please. You know I went through your file."
Angela laughed, but then protested, "Hey, we're trying to fix my disadvantage here, aren't we?"
"Why is that a secret?" he pressed, then his smile turned obnoxious. "Wait- another guy!?"
Angela rolled her eyes, "Yes! Now, back to your story. Did you two get married on graduation day, or what?"
Grant laughed and pointed at her, "I reserve the right to go back to that, but fine…We actually didn't make it to graduation." He looked at her, "I got her in trouble, and my dad laid down the law."
"Your dad made you marry her?"
"Well, he told me in his own special words to get on it." Grant shrugged, "So I did. Family expectation was a huge force in my life at the time." He scoffed and turned toward Angela. "I wouldn't recommend it."
Compassion came to her face.
Grant continued, shaking his head in explanation. "It was just never solid from the start. We liked each other as teenagers, but by the time we were in college, it was mostly for the family – except for, well-"
"I understand," Angela nodded, trying to hurry him up. She thought for a second. Am I jealous? ...How funny.
"So yeah, anyway, when all that happened, we still had a lot of expectations of our own. Those didn't get fulfilled for either one of us. The house always felt tight and angry..." He shrugged again, "Finally, she'd just had it, and said she wanted a divorce. I was pissed, after all I'd invested, to have it and all my family's approval just go down the tubes? Anyway, I stupidly fought her tooth and nail for everything. But I was also really busy at work, and she did her homework better than I - got herself a great lawyer and took me to the cleaners." He turned toward her with a devilish grin, "I did escape with all that China I hated, though!"
Angela spoke softly, "I'm sorry, Grant. That sounds miserable."
"Oh, it was," he agreed. Then he slowed down. "…thanks."
He spoke louder, "Anyway, she got remarried a couple years ago. …I think my family likes both of them better than me." His brows furrowed almost in jest, " - not sure I blame them."
Angela reached over and lightly trailed her finger on the back of Grant's hand. I know that hurt Michael a lot.
She didn't know what to say, so she just stared out the window and kept stroking his hand.
After a few seconds, Grant cleared his throat and tried to laugh. "Well, lesson learned."
Angela's brows scrunched and looked back at him. "Hmm?"
"Never doing that again!" he proclaimed with a shudder.
"Marriage?" Really?
Grant nodded emphatically, "Yeah!"
I guess I can't blame him, but crap: we really aren't going anywhere.
Angela nodded, but more shallow than he.
A few moments passed, and Grant tried to smile, "I don't know why we have a tendency to kill the mood, but-" I might be cursed, on that one. "…since we're here…what's with you and Michael?"
Angela scoffed, herself. "I don't even know where to start."
Grant didn't respond, and Angela shook her head and shrugged. As thoughts came to mind, an embarrassed smile formed on her face. "We met at a club on New Year's Eve that first year I was at Wallace & McQuade. I'd just lost a very dear friend, and I was devastated." Grant's face was still as he listened. "I went to zone out and found him… We ignited very quickly," she flicked a side-eye over at Grant, who smiled wide. "I just really needed a distraction, and he was nice to me," she shrugged, but her brows reevaluated that. "Well, I mean, sometimes he was nice - really nice. And sometimes he was really, really mean. That lasted for 7 years, and here we are."
Grant waited.
Angela thought for a bit and shrugged again, "Michael never wanted to get married. I was pregnant and scared, and talked him into it. We had a lot of tension, from any and every source, but work was our favorite. He hated that I worked, and I was hurt that he didn't care if his job kept him away for half the year. We fought all the time. I was always so relieved whenever we weren't fighting, that I let everything slide for that one breath of air. And I spent most of my time nearly suffocating 'till the next." She looked over at him, "Sex was basically our only connection."
Grant's voice was soft, but not his words. "What the hell, Angela. Why'd you stay?"
Angela felt herself start to tear. "I don't know - I guess I got used to the instability. It was a circular thing. I'd get hurt, then he'd be sweet, and I wouldn't have the courage or even the desire to leave until it happened again. And when it did… I don't know, maybe I thought I deserved it?"
She shook her head. "Anyway, somewhere along the line, I stopped caring about how I felt and just started surviving. I didn't have a long-term vision in mind anymore. It was just about getting through the day. And to do that, I'd shove all I felt under the rug, all the while building up a ton of resentments."
Angela's eyebrows went up and as she looked at Grant, her explanation gained speed, "Well, that all escalated until Panama, when everything I'd held in exploded." Grant's head whipped toward her, but she just kept talking like it hadn't.
"I freaked out. We both did, and we…really hurt each other." Grant squinted at her, clearly trying to decode her caginess. "Anyway, we tried to hang on after that – I mean, I think we both love each other - but we were really grasping at straws, at that point." Her dry voice softened considerably, "…But I still couldn't let him go. It hurt too badly. He just has this way about him…it's almost impossible for me to say, 'no' to him."
Grant's eyebrows dipped up, "Almost?"
Angela scoffed a little. "Yeah, well, I got so thrown last year, I couldn't do anything with him. For a while, I wouldn't let him touch me at all. That took a toll. I mean, he understood, at first; even he knew I had reason. But when we couldn't resolve it in the 6 months before he left for another 6 months to go back to Rwanda, he didn't talk to either me or Jonathan the whole time he was away. Then out of nowhere, he called me at work. I tried to get him to come home, but he wasn't having it if we were…" she glanced over at Grant. "-still not okay..." Grant nodded slowly, listening. "And then he said something particularly cruel and hung up. I haven't heard from him since."
Grant didn't say anything but looked at her as often as was safe.
Her voice came out soft and sober, "I ignored so many problems because dealing with it hurt and not dealing with it felt amazing."
Grant nodded slowly. Pulling his hand from under hers, he squeezed her leg.
After he processed a bit, he asked, "So, what made you finally deal with it?"
"That phone call." Angela laughed a little. "I think I may have had a little out-of-body experience." Grant's brows furrowed. "That's when I threw the stapler at the wall…this spring?" she said sheepishly.
"Ahhh, that's what that was…"
"Yeah. Sorry. I didn't even really know I was doing it. My body just kind of did it."
Grant's brows squished, "That's scary." Angela bit her tongue but nodded out the window. "I was wondering what happened to you. You know I'm not a fan of impromptu leave, but you looked like death."
After several seconds, Angela swallowed and continued. "I went to talk to a doctor friend of mine that day." Grant nodded, and she shook her head. "I don't know. It was weird. It wasn't like any of that was new. But for some reason, it hit me that day - I got it: This was insane. It wasn't going to get better, and I didn't have to be miserable. I never understood that before." She smiled, "And now I do."
Grant blinked and looked back at the road, "Damn, Angela… All that's been going on this whole time?"
Angela nodded slowly out the windshield.
Another half a minute passed, and Grant looked at her. "Wait. That was your birthday."
She didn't look at him when she answered blankly, "In his defense, I don't think he remembered." Her heart was beating fast again, and she tried to steady her breathing.
She was grateful Grant left his hand where it was. She put her chin up at him, reassuring, and chose to mention, "I filed for divorce in July. I don't know where he is, but the lawyer is trying to locate him." She nodded her head quickly, trying to smile. Grant didn't.
He looked back to the road and kept driving in silence.
"Angela, time to wake up. We're here," Grant said, lightly squeezing her leg.
She squinted and pushed herself off the doorframe. "I slept the whole way?" she yawned.
"Near enough," he grinned, but then it softened. "It seemed like you could use it."
They rolled slowly through downtown Lake George. It was a picturesque, little vacation town with everything one could want in walking distance. People of all ages bustled about, soft drinks and baseball gloves in hand.
"Wow. What a great place! It's so busy for a small town," Angela said, taking it all in.
"You should see it in the summer," he smiled, watching the road carefully.
She smiled back at his profile. That'd be nice.
"So, where's your house?"
"We'll get there," he grinned. "But do you mind if we stop in for a few groceries first? Besides, I've got to rent a skiff."
"A skiff?"
He looked over at her, "Yeah, I'm taking you rowing."
"You still do that?"
"Oh, sure. I've got a shell in my garage, but it's a single – and I'm less likely to fish you out of the lake in a skiff."
Her lids dropped halfway. "I can swim, genius."
He smiled back vexatiously, "Well, this way, you won't need to."
She rolled her eyes but smiled at the windshield. "Let's get that food. I'm hungry."
He pulled into a nearby spot and parked. Eying her wryly before getting out, he said, "Good."
They got sandwiches at a deli and walked through town to the boat house. Grant rented a two-seater skiff and pulled out blankets to lay down as a barrier between the boat and the roof of his Bentley. Once he had it all tied up, they drove the short distance to his house.
Grant unlocked the door to his fully furnished, pristine condition, 4 bedroom, 3 bath, 2-story lake house on the mid-southeastern shore. It had a half-acre lawn, a detached garage, and a private dock. Angela's mouth didn't close from the moment they pulled up to the moment he finished his tour. This is some cabin!
"Grant, this is gorgeous."
"This is where the money goes," he laughed. "The closer you get to town, the more on top of everyone you are. That's why I got it farther north - a little more spaced out, but still in a good section." Angela nodded as she continued to scan the large stone fireplace.
Grant picked up the bags and brought them to the master bedroom. She followed him, a little more shyly than she wished. "You can put your stuff in that dresser, if you want."
She smiled slightly, "Thanks."
Grant glanced at her over his shoulder as he unpacked his suitcase. "Are you up for a little rowing lesson before dinner?"
"Sure," she glanced back, as she put away her things. A little more time would be good. I can try to breathe.
When she was done, Angela opened her purse for a Chapstick and saw a piece of paper, "Oh, no!"
"What is it?" Grant asked.
She pulled out the paper and showed him. "Jonathan has this book report due soon and he still needs to get a book. I forgot all about it! I've got to call Tony and ask him to take him to the library today. May I please use your phone?"
Grant pointed toward the nightstand, "Go right ahead."
Shaking his head, he left the room, laughing to himself, "I'm so glad I'm done with that stuff."
Angela stared after him, a little sad and lonely, but then shook it off and called Tony.
After a couple of hours on the lake, Grant slowed the skiff up to the dock. He got out and then helped Angela. "That was a lot of fun! Thanks."
Grant smiled widely and tied up the skiff, "I'm glad you liked it. I've been on the water since I was a baby." Angela smiled at him. "My favorite time to come out is very early in the morning, though." He rolled his eyes, "- before the jet skiers wake up. The water is like glass, the fog rises from the lake, and you have the whole thing to share with only a couple old fisherman in rowboats." He nodded toward the house and started walking. "I wanted to take you in the morning, if you'll go?"
"Sounds peaceful," she said following him.
"Best time on earth," he faltered and looked back to wink at her. "Well, you know, second best."
"Mmhmm," she mused dryly.
They walked up the many wooden stairs of the boardwalk to Grant's house, content to not say anything. At the top, Angela surprised Grant by being right on his heels. "You do a lot of cardio?" he asked, eyebrows up.
"I run."
"On purpose?" She laughed. "Shit, I only run if I have to."
She tipped her head, "How do you stay in shape?"
"Swimming, mostly, but I row, when I can. Our coach would always have us do cross country skiing in the winter, and you'd be surprised how much running is involved in that sport. At least, I was..." Grant shuddered.
Angela laughed, "Well, running is my sanity."
"Hey, more power to ya. Come on," he smiled. "Let's go make dinner."
Less than an hour later, they had freshened up, 'Little Bitty Pretty One' was on the HiFi, and Angela was sitting on the dark granite countertop. The smell of baking potatoes filled the kitchen, and Grant was trimming the steaks. Angela took a sip of wine, "So, how often do you come up here?"
"I try for a couple times a month, but I just take it as it comes."
"How do you keep it so nice?"
"I have a cleaning lady come in after every time I'm here," Grant shrugged. "And a gardener takes care of the lawn and landscaping."
She nodded, "Well, it's incredible – everything: the house, the lake, the town - but what made you decide to get a place all the way up here?"
Grant flicked his eyebrows up and down. "After my divorce, I needed something to invest in." He looked up at her. "Something nice."
She smiled, understanding, "You did well."
He smiled and spoke softly, "Thanks." He looked back down at the meat and kept cutting and pulling off pieces of fat. "Yeah, I wanted a place to retire where I could row in peace and get away from all the chatter."
Angela nodded, "How far away are you?"
"I hit twenty this year, so I can actually go at any time."
"Wow... Congratulations."
He looked up at her and stopped cutting. "I'm 44."
Her brows scrunched, and Grant paused for a few seconds but didn't drop eye contact. "Is that too old for you?"
Angela heard the insecurity in his question and bit her lip. In all honesty, she knew they didn't have a future. But she wanted a now. Tipping her head to the side, she put down her wine glass and pulled Grant's arm gently toward her.
He kept staring at her but allowed her to pull him in front of her dangling legs. She reached up and put her arms loosely around his neck. In a low, quiet voice, she answered him with deep sincerity in her eyes, "Grant… you have terrible taste in music, but I haven't stopped thinking about how you felt since you touched me."
Grant spurted out a laugh and dropped his head shyly. Angela rescued his fallen lips and pulled him into a deep kiss. She kept the tempo slow, scootching forward and wrapping her legs around him snugly. He wiped his palms briefly on his pants, then placed his hands on top of her thighs. Angela had to kiss him harder just to stay in control. She couldn't release herself just yet. Rocking toward him, she cinched her legs tighter. "Grant, we've got to talk first."
He pulled back and sucked in just enough breath to respond, "I've got condoms."
She smiled, breathing hard. "So, do I. But I mean it; we've got to talk."
Grant slowly moved his hands around her butt, dipping and dragging his thumbs along her inner panty line as he went. "What is it?"
Trying to catch her breath, Angela looked into his eyes, "I want you, but I can't keep you."
He looked at her in growing confusion. "What?"
"Grant, are you okay with this being just this weekend?"
He didn't answer, but he couldn't hide his immediate disappointment.
Angela brought one hand up to his face and trailed her fingers down his cheek. She put her forehead on his and smiled sadly down at her lap, "You're not going to want to go to my kid's PTA meetings…"
Grant sighed and tried to pull back, but Angela grabbed his shoulders, looked up at him, and didn't untwist her legs, "or help with his school projects, or help me plan his birthday parties…" She shrugged a teary ending. "You're done with all that. But I'm still in it." She bit her lip again, "…and I want it to be great."
Grant looked at her closely and absently licked his lips. He looked up to the ceiling as she hung on him.
The tears slowly filling her eyes finally fell, and they showed up in her voice. "We're just in different places, and that's okay. It's okay if you don't want more kids. But I don't want you to be holding your breath 'till Jonathan turns 18 - and I don't even know that I'm done having kids."
"You want another round of marriage and family? I would've thought you'd be even less interested than I!?"
Speaking high and light, Angela shrugged, "I'm still holding out hope there's someone I can spend forever with." She nodded, "Someone nice." Then she lowered her voice and spoke clearly. "But I'm never going to try to convince another man to be with me. If he wants to, he'll let me know." She smiled sadly, "And you don't want what I want."
Grant exhaled and tipped his head far back, but he didn't let go of her butt.
"I want someone who wants to be with just me for forever." Angela reached up and pulled his head down gently. Holding the base of his head with both hands, she made sure he was looking in her eyes and whispered, "I don't want to share."
Grant closed his eyes but kept holding onto her for a long while.
Finally, he looked at her and responded, "Angela…just promise me you won't settle for another jerkwad. I don't think I could handle that. If you invest in some guy, and for whatever reason, it's not working out, he's a sunk cost. You know that! Just fire him!" There was an intensity in his voice that almost sounded to Angela like pain.
Impossibly, she scootched even closer to Grant. Briefly closing her eyes, she placed another gentle kiss to his lips. She looked him in the eye and spoke so quietly he could barely hear her, "What do you think I'm doing?"
With a self-deprecating laugh, Grant nodded, "Alright, boss." He kissed her, soft and sound.
But after several seconds, he pulled back and caught his breath. "Angela, wait. While you're looking for this forever guy… what if you just, you know, kept my resume on file?" his eyes squinted hopefully.
Angela didn't look away and answered in a low voice. "Grant, I'm quite certain I won't look for a forever guy if I've got someone like you in my file."
A beat passed, then with a pained laugh, he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "Did you really just say that?"
She smiled back but waited until he was looking at her again to nod her head, "And I meant it."
Grant sighed and paused, "Damn, you're hardcore." He fingered a loose tendril of hair by her face and looked back into her eyes, "I told you the Board made the right decision."
Angela smiled widely and kissed Grant securely. Picking her up with her legs still around him, he walked them over to the oven and turned it off.
