Addendum 5.4 – "Savor the Veal 'pt. 4'"

April 1993 – Fairfield, CT

Already with a pause to her step, Angela walked in the back door that evening and found Tony washing a casserole dish in the sink.

He looked up at her and stopped scrubbing. She took a long time closing the door.

"Hi," her quiet voice reached.

"Hi."

He was subdued, and she wasn't sure what to make of it.

She tried to smile, "I thought you were ordering pizza."

Tony seemed to make an effort at one, too. "I thought you were going shopping." His deeply apologetic tone was gone, but a sort of timidity remained.

Her quick head tilt acknowledged his statement, and she took a couple hesitant steps toward him, "I was. But I- I heard you on the phone… and I wanted to see how you were doing," she shrugged, "how it went this afternoon."

Tony watched her for a few moments before he answered. "How I'm doing? I thought you were the one mad at me."

"Yeah, I was. I kind of still am…" she drifted. "But-" She didn't want to talk about that. It was embarrassing, and she'd rather see how his job hunt had gone. She was worried for him.

Tony let the pan coast into the soapy water and dried his hands on the dish towel. He turned toward her, and Angela spent considerable effort getting a full breath.

No, I've got to deal with this. She stepped closer to him.

"Tony, there are things that I'm really sensitive about-"

He scoffed, "No kiddin'."

She squinted.

He exhaled and pinched his hand over his eyes. Dropping it to a slap on his thigh, he looked up her with a weary smile, "I'm sorry, Angela. I really don't want to hurt you. I wasn't trying to this morning… I've just had a bad day."

Angela bit her lip and nodded.

He squinted, "Why are you nodding?"

She shrugged, "I'm listening."

A few beats went by. "It kind of feels like you're agreeing with me… that you can see how I would've had a bad day… when I didn't tell you anything about it." He encouraged the momentum of his argument with a head nod, "And you're mad at me."

"So?"

Tony kept staring at her, "So, why did you skip shopping to check on me when I made you mad? You like shopping - especially when you're upset."

Her face dropped a little before she looked up to his, "Yes, but I love you."

He nodded again. "…Yeah. But why are you here?"

He seemed stalled to Angela, and she hated how baited the conversation felt. He knew her too well, and despite the caginess, it was starting to make her smile.

Softening her voice, she reached for his shoulder, "Tony, I tried to catch you before you hung up, but I didn't make it in time."

"Oh?"

"I- I just didn't want you to be discouraged if-" she watched as his face continued to tighten.

Damn. That is the problem.

The confirmation hurt, and a swift need to soothe him came over her, "-if, the job market is still tough around here."

Tony bit his lip and nodded away from her. "You didn't think colleges would want me as a professor, did you?" he said looking back at her.

Empathy blanketed her face, "Tony, I just didn't want you to be hurt. Your work at Wells looks great on your resume, but," she shrugged softly, "you just might need a little more time building on that before other colleges will take notice."

"You were mad at me. Wouldn't talk to me. But tried to get to the phone in time to stop me from even asking them?"

She just looked at him.

He made a flat smile of acceptance, "You were pretty sure they wouldn't want me, huh?"

"Tony," she tipped her head, "I want you." She stepped up to him and crossed her arms behind his neck. "They will, too. You just have to check the boxes."

He didn't blink as he sighed. It took a few seconds, but he finally decided to return her hug, and she held on tight.

Keeping her hands where they were, Angela leaned back a little to look in his eyes, "You show them what you can do, even if it's at a lower level. People will take notice." She smiled, "It's impossible not to notice you."

"Well, apparently, a bachelor's degree isn't something to draw attention to."

Her eyebrows went up, "I worked damn hard for mine."

He made a small laugh.

"But if you want to teach at the college level…" she shrugged. "I mean, are you interested in getting a higher degree?"

Tony stiffened, "You think a 4 year degree isn't enough?"

Angela's core tightened, "No, it's just- I've never had a professor like that. But experience certainly carries weight…"

She quickly licked her lips, trying to proceed as delicately as possible, but her delayed response felt painful to even herself. "It just might take a considerable amount of time… to gather enough of that to make the higher degree seem unimportant… at that level." She blinked. "To them," she added quietly.

He stared at her. She could see his heart shrink through his eyes and wanted to grab on and pull him back to her. Again, all she could think of fast enough was a gentle kiss and she gave him one.

It felt lacking. Opening her eyes, Angela's voice stayed soft, "I know what a marvel you are, Tony. They will, too."

His mouth tipped, unamused, "But probably not for a long time."

"Do you want to teach college?"

"Yes!"

She smiled pointedly, "You sound like you mean that. Is two more years really so long? A master's degree would qualify you, even starting as an adjunct."

"Angela, it's not just that. At some point, I'd like to not be the 40-some year old, college kid you're marrying."

She dropped her voice fast. "Tony Micelli, you are no kid."

Tony's cocky smile briefed an appearance, and she laughed.

He exhaled and she felt his arms loosen around her. "I mean, I guess we could wait to get married…"

"Uh, no we can't," she said distinctly.

He tipped his head, "Angela, I don't know what to do here. I don't have a serious job; I can't get one for at least two more years-"

"That's not-" she started to shake her head.

"Yes, it is. I already had an associate professor job. You could marry an associate professor. He wouldn't make what 'the Owner and President of The Bower Agency' makes,"

Not this again…

"but you could still bring him to parties with you, head held high. Angela, I feel like your handbag at those things. I want to feel like I have a right to hold your hand."

Yet another round of defending everybody's life choices...

The very age of the wound mocked her, and Angela tried to keep the irritation out of her voice, "You can't get that from a job, Tony."

"Well, it'd make me feel better."

His whininess was really starting to grate. "And only a college teaching job will do that? You can't teach history at a junior high or high school and feel productive? You're qualified for that right now!"

"A junior high teacher, Angela? Really? How is that anywhere near you? How is that serious? It's a joke! I've already been an associate professor! Before I got that letter from Wells, I was limping by, knowing you loved me, but wondering how I'd ever make you proud."

Angela's face stiffened. She knew he didn't feel secure, but she was getting tired of fighting for something he wasn't willing to accept.

"And then I saw it – that look on your face when they showed us that immaculate office and that brass nameplate. You were amazed about what I could be!"

She let go of him and folded her arms, "Oh, you're not putting this on me, Micelli. This isn't about how I looked when they offered you that job. It's about how you looked at yourself. I can't tell you enough what a gift your tenacity would be in any classroom. I can't tell you enough how proud of you that makes me. You are enough. And I don't want to wait to marry you 'till you rack up enough degrees or job offers to convince yourself of that." She dropped her arms and stepped back up to him. "Please. Please, believe it, Tony. I support whatever you want to be, because I love you and I trust that drive in you. It is not letting me down to work for however long it takes to make that passion flourish. That level of work, that level of dedication, that level of humility-" she exhaled sharply and pushed herself against him, "is really hot." She followed the start of his smile, and spoke low, "And I respect it."

Staring at her for several moments, he finally blinked. "You want me to go back to school?"

Angela tilted her head back in exasperation, "Tony, I want you to do what you feel good about!"

"I felt good offering you a college professor! How am I going to get anything that good again!?"

Her hands shot out to her sides, "Oh, for Pete's sake, Tony! It was a junior college!"

As soon as she said it, her face flooded with heat. Shit!

Her eyebrows flew up, "Tony, I didn't mean that the way it sounded!"

But he was already shutting down, and fast.

"Tony, I'm sorry. I was just trying to say," beads of sweat popped through every inch skin she had, and the adrenaline was making her shake, "it doesn't matter to me what you do. It never has! I just want you!" She grasped his arms tightly, begging for attention.

Tony slowly looked down at her hands.

Angela's nose stung like crazy, and she wanted to fight for the truth of how she felt. She respected him, and there was no doubt in her mind about it. But there was in his.

When he backed up, the look in his eyes let her know not to follow him.


Tony carefully opened the front door that night and locked it without a sound. Turning to the living room, he saw a sleeping Angela on the couch. She was curled up on the side closest to the stairs, hugging a little, square pillow tighter than he would a life preserver, and his soft face watched her where he stood. He sighed and made a flat smile.

Stepping closer, he knelt down and got a better look. His eyes moved all over her beautiful features, not missing the 9mm pearl studs in her ears, but settling on her mouth. He reached up and brushed his thumb lightly over her lips, then leaned in to softly kiss the trail.

Angela's eyes blinked open and seeing Tony's gentle expression so close, her whole face crumpled. She glommed onto whatever was closest. In this case, her sternum attached to his shoulder as her arms and legs wrapped around his back, neck, and torso like an octopus.

"Ohlm," Tony gulped and tried to adjust. "Mmp-" he exhaled and managed a muffled, "Angela-"

He waited several seconds, then tried to jiggle her off, but she didn't let go. Sighing, he heaved them both to standing and stumbled toward the stairs.

With one hand on the railing, and the other holding her onto him, Tony lumbered up each step. Angela held on even tighter and curled her desperate whisper right next to his ear, "I'm sorry."

He fumbled through their bedroom door, shutting it behind him, and with a bit of a growl, he dumped them both on the bed. Even with him flopped backward on top of her whole left side, she still didn't let go.

"Angela," he breathed.

She shook her head definitively.

Tony sighed.

"Angela, I was thinking about it, and uh, I may not really get it, but I think I get it." He sighed again and finished quietly, "I didn't do a very good job of letting you know I love you today."

Angela's grip loosened a little, and she started to notice that her own breaths were getting longer. Tony took the opportunity and flipped over. She was still arched across the middle of the bed, but he scootched on the mattress so his eyes were near hers.

His sad smile spoke, "I'm sorry."

He's apologizing to me? It stung so badly, her palm slapped over her whole mouth and part of her eye. "I'm sorry, Tony," she whispered. "I'm so proud of you, and I want everyone to know you're mine."

Tony stared at her for a moment before nodding. She swallowed thickly. Truthfully, he'd hurt her, too, and she allowed his apology to start warming her chest.

"I want you to know that I know you're beautiful." He shook his head quietly, "All the time."

Her eyes widened, and he looked down to her chest. Thoughtfully, he undid the top button of her pajamas and kissed the top of her left breast.

'All the time'? All the time he's seen me, I've been this Angela. He just knows the 'too skinny' version.

But as he unbuttoned another and muzzled lower, this Angela wanted to believe him. He smooshed his nose and lips securely into her breast and didn't at all appear to be left wanting. Gently, he pulled back to see unshed tears in her round eyes.

"Oh, my God," he whispered. "How do you not know that?"

He slowly climbed up over her, and leaned down for a deep kiss, gently dragging her loose scrunchie from her hair.