Addendum 5.5 – "Savor the Veal 'pt. 4'"

April 1993 – Fairfield, CT

Angela put her briefcase down by the door, "Are you sure you don't need to bring anything?"

Tony smiled, amused, "Everything I've got's in Iowa, Angela."

Oh, hell no.

She wasn't letting that one slide, not even facetiously. "Not true."

Some kind of mix between happy and sad seemed to mellow his countenance. Stepping close, he held her chin. "You're right."

He leaned in for a quiet kiss, and nice as it was, Angela wasn't smiling when he pulled back.

Barely audible, she braved, "Do you believe that?"

Half of his smile tipped, "Angela, I may have thought more people would be impressed with Wells on my résumé, but I was just talking about my stuff."

Angela tossed a small, backward nod but didn't say anything.

He sighed, "Honey, I don't know how things are going to pan out, but I've been there, with all my 'stuff' …in my cool apartment and my fancy office …with my paycheck..."

His increasingly obvious preoccupation tightened her nerves. She knew it was a loss for him to give up all he was describing. I'd be scared out of my mind to be in his situation.

It was almost as scary as the possibility of being his second-place trophy.

Tony shrugged, "…but it wasn't enough. I need you."

A slow smile flipped up her lashes, and she registered an exhale.

He dipped a sideways nod to honesty, "I'm probably gonna whine a bit, but don't take that personally, okay?" He grinned, "I've got the whole trip to get it outta my system. If I still have it when you talk to me, try to cut me some slack, okay?"

Angela pushed down the anxiety of how quickly he tidied up their complicated situation and chose to smile up at the ever-intriguing gray by his temples. Damn, he's sexy.

Tony rubbed her upper arms, apparently trying to regain her attention. "This is hard, Angela," his whine already taking root. "They think I'm somebody out there - a lot of people do. You're pretty much the only one here who does." He shook his hands in front of himself, "Now- now I mean it: all that without you is way worse than nothing else with you, but…" He scrunched his nose, "Please let me chirp about how much this bites, without it being a thing?"

Angela nodded quickly and locked in a tight hug. She wanted to believe him. She knew he loved her, but she'd loved him, too, and she couldn't hack it. How long could someone hold their breath? Would he find something he could sink his teeth into before he went nuts?

I have to take his word for it. That's what adults do, right?

But Angela was noticing the peace she used to feel with Tony felt a lot more like relief. She didn't know when that had changed. At this point, she didn't know if that was the maturation of relationships in general, or just the ones with her, but it felt like panic.

"Angela?"

She quieted further protest and smiled, even as the seasoned face of an interloper pushed his way into her consciousness.

No. Tony isn't Michael.

Michael and I didn't actually want to be together; Tony and I do.

We'll figure the rest out.

"Hey," she answered, blinking a smile. Stepping back, she ran her eager hands up and down his biceps. "So, what time do you land?"

He squinted at her a little, "12:32, Central. What was that?"

She wanted to brush it off. It was bad timing, and she'd learned to respect the weight of that. But in light of her confidence in them, she decided to encroach.

My relationship with Tony is different. We can handle this.

"Tony, do you really want to wait to get married? I'm getting nervous - that you're not completely sure about us."

With him or without him, she was never going to push Tony to be with her. Well, not anymore. It was a tried and true recipe for disaster, and her understanding of that felt like her most treasured life lesson.

Tony's expectant face mellowed into a sigh. "Angela, I've wanted to be married to you for years."

Annoyed at his sidestep, she played along, "But you weren't willing to say anything."

He popped his lower lip out, "That's not true. We talked about it."

Something started to sting, and Angela felt herself bristle. He was right, despite how long they'd taken to get together.

Jamaica.

A thick heaviness swelled her head, and she could feel herself backing away from him. "We did," her whisper agreed. She was nodding but she wasn't blinking, and his mini-pout started to morph into worry.

"Why are you asking me this?"

If Angela had something she needed to say, she knew it was her duty to say it. She wanted a different future for herself and Tony than the place she'd helped usher her first marriage. She'd started this topic under that premise, but now, cloudy thoughts were blocking her.

"I uh-" she shook her head. "I don't know. I- I don't want to make you do something you don't want to do." With her confusion and timidity embarrassing her, she shrugged and tried to lift her chin, "That's all."

"Angela, I want to marry you. I want to claim you as mine, for everyone to see."

Hope steadied her breath, but then it was his turn to shrug. "I just wanted to be able to hold my head up when I do it." He kept a determined gaze into her widening eyes. "But if this is making you not be able to hold your head up," he shook his head again. "Nah, I can't do that. I'd rather get married right now."

Angela tilted her head in irritation, "Tony, I don't want you to marry me because I'm sad that you won't."

"I'm not! I want to marry you! I was just thinking maybe my embarrassment isn't as important to me as yours."

What!?

She could see he was trying to be debonaire, and she didn't want to keep picking a fight when he was obviously trying to smooth things over. But it still felt like dishonesty, and she still felt like a consolation prize. He wasn't settled.

And how could he be? Ex-pro-athlete. Ex-college professor. Kinda/sorta, back to being a housekeeper?

It was a terrible lot, but if she was worth it to him, why wouldn't his head be up?

Damn it. Why did I start this?

I was trying to tell the truth. Now I have a headache, and I'm more scared than when I started.

That felt familiar, too.

Angela closed her eyes and pushed on the middle of her forehead. Sighing, she looked at him, "Tony, you have to get to Iowa; I have to get to work. Let's just talk about this later, okay?"

At his clearly confused look, she tried to smile, "Thank you for thinking of me and my feelings."

He waited a few seconds, then that whine pooched out his lips. "Why do you have to make it tense before I go? I don't wanna go like this, and I have to!"

Angela sighed and nodded, "I know. I'm sorry. It's not always the right time to bring up real concerns, but I want to be able to talk with you." She forced another smile. "Can we just discuss it when you get back?"

He sighed, too, "Sure. But know I want to marry you, okay? Shoot. Candy even tried to set me up a couple nights ago-"

What.

" -and cute as she was, she just wasn't you. That's what I'm saying: even with all they were trying to offer me, it wasn't good enough. You're not there and I need you with me."

A tightening formed inside Angela. Maybe in her gut. Maybe in her throat. She didn't know, but it was constricting, and she tried to make her inhale look casual.

"She wasn't as cute as you," Tony spoke low, reading her thoughts.

She was still at a pause when his voice rose with his eyebrows, "…am I allowed to say that?" A sincere smile appealed to her graces, and she shook her head back at him.

"Tony, I want you to think I'm cute," she smiled but then made a slow blink of acknowledgment. "Comparing is, honestly, a little triggering, because there's always going to be a prettier girl out there."

"N-"

She cut him off. "But no matter what does or doesn't seem favorable about me at the moment, what I really want is for you to see me. As a person. As a woman - your woman. And care about me. Because I love you, and I know you love me."

Tony smiled richly and stepped in close, "I do."

Angela's own smile couldn't be stopped, and he leaned in for a deep, sound kiss.

"Don't make me record you saying that," she grinned, and he laughed back into the kiss.

I am so happy with him.


Angela turned her gaze from her office window that afternoon. Folders in various colors fanned across her desk. She couldn't remember which accounts they represented and was surprised that she didn't care.

She'd taken the picture of Tony and herself off her desk not a couple hours into her first day back from Iowa. It was too painful, and that infernal hope wouldn't have subsided with her shrine intact. But she'd kept the photo.

In the back of the bottom drawer of the file cabinet setting at the front of her personal office, as far from her desk as possible, the photo rested.

Sometimes, she'd sat at her desk, frustrated and wishful from any number of triggers, and looked up, maybe even subconsciously, knowing the image of them together was right in her line of sight.

This was the first she'd thought about it since Tony had returned two nights ago.

Angela walked to the cabinet and crouched down in her heels and pencil skirt. Hands fairly shaking, she pulled out the drawer and fingered to the last file. Hope was buzzing through her, as exciting as it was terrifying.

She laid the file on the stretched wool of her squatted lap and pulled out the picture. Seeing them together again on paper made her smile. Tony's so good for me.

Holding the picture, she looked up and around the office, taking in the space. She liked it here. She'd deliberately chosen everything, from each piece of furniture to each client, and the freedom of ownership made its full run in the depth of her every breath.

But the air was clearer with the stamp of their coupledom getting its chance to breathe openly, too. As her sanctuary, this room needed this picture. I'm not okay without him, and he came back to my territory to fight for us.

She stood up. Tony's right. All this without him is not better than none of it with him. I can't live in Iowa; I know that's true. But it's also not honest to act like I'm fine without him. I'm not. This is what it feels like to be okay. It feels like hope.

How did I not see that when I left him at Wells? Am I just now more familiar with the pain of consequence, having spent the last 2 months without a motivation to thrive? It's so obvious. None of this means anything without him.

So, why wasn't that enough for me in Iowa? I know I was dying out there.

Ugh! What is it about this I'm not seeing?

While unable to come to a satisfactory conclusion, Angela was settled with a particular resolve. I need him.

The thought of Candy's suggestion ghosted through her consciousness. 'Candy even tried to set me up'…'cute as she was'…

Angela's next inhale took more thought.

'They think I'm somebody out there… You're pretty much the only one here who does.'

Angela was getting a little bit scared. It seemed silly, and maybe it was more the point than the other woman herself. But that midwestern skirt was arguably the easier choice for Tony. Nothing else in his life would go better on the east coast.

Besides Angela, everything else Tony counted on, everything else he valued - minus the family who didn't need tending - was waiting for him in Iowa. He was stepping back into that siren song, and silly or not, a beautiful woman dangling in mix did not make Angela feel better.

Angela knew him and his eager eyes. She knew he loved her. But this was an uphill battle, and she was not going to let either of them fight it alone.

Snatching the picture, Angela shoved the drawer back and hurried out of her office.


Ding Dong

"I'll get it!" Jonathan dumped his backpack on the couch and jogged to open the front door.

"Hey, Son."

Michael dropped a cigarette butt onto the porch, and his weary smile and guarded demeanor didn't stop an ecstatic look from washing over Jonathan's face. "Dad!"

Throwing his arms around his father's waist, Jonathan held on tight. "Dad, I can't believe it!"

A stiff Michael stared down at the top of his son's head, and it took only a few seconds for his smile to soften and an honest squeeze to be returned.

Michael patted his shoulder, and Jonathan opened his eyes and leaned back, getting a better view of his long, lost father.

Defined and ragged, Michael's negligible body fat, sunken eyes, and deeply tanned skin looked incited less by choice than necessity. His greying hair was cropped into a short Caesar, his stubbly shave, patchy, at best.

Jonathan let go, and his eyebrows dipped up, "Whoa! Dad. You look terrible."

Michael's lids lowered, and he twisted his ankle over the smoldering cigarette, "You look like you play indoors."

The wide-eyed 15 year old took a half step back.

Michael sighed, "I'm sorry, buddy. I'm just hungry. You wanna hang out? Get a burger or something?

A quiet answer lobbed back, "Sure."

Michael piped up, "Look, I'm on a layover 'till tomorrow. You wanna go on a hike or something afterward?"

"Yeah, I guess," Jonathan shrugged.

A few beats passed, and Michael tried again. "Is your mom home?"

"No, she's flying out to see Tony."

"Tony? He's still around?"

"Yeah," Jonathan smiled. "Yeah, they're getting married."

"No shit? …They haven't hit that level yet?"

Jonathan laughed a little awkwardly, "Nah. They just started dating like a year ago."

Michael laughed louder, "Damn. …'Course, I was surprised they hadn't gotten together by the time you guys all flew out to California with me."

Another little laugh escaped. "Yeah, nobody knew what their problem was. They've liked each other for forever."

Michael scoffed, "Yeah, I could tell…"

Jonathan didn't reply. Taking another step backward, he redirected by waving his thumb toward the stairs. "Well, I'd better go change."


The phone behind the couch rang into the thick dormancy of Michael's presence.

Looking down, he cocked his head at it. After another ring, he reached for the receiver.

"Bower Residence."

"…Excuse me? Who's this?"

A fiendish smile crept up Michael's face. "Michael Bower. Is that you, Tony, my man?"

"Michael? Yeah, it's Tony. Uh, w- what are you doing there?"

"I'm here to pick up Jonathan."

"Oh… I didn't know you were coming. Where's Angela?"

"Jonathan said she was gonna go see you." Michael let out a taunting, little laugh, "Hard to keep tabs on, i'n she?"

"Me?"

"No, Angela."

"No. I mean, she's coming to see me?"

Michael shrugged. "That's what Jonathan said. He said she was flying to see you? Where are you?"

"Iowa. I've been teaching at a junior college out here."

"No kidding!" Michael scoffed again, "Teaching what?"

Tony's reserved tone started to edge. "History."

"Of what? Vacuums?" Michael laughed.

"I went back and got my degree, okay? A lot's gone down since you darkened the doorstep."

Michael's eyelids lowered. "Hmm… Well, congrats. …And yeah, I guess that sounds like her."

"What? Who?"

"Angela. Jonathan said you two finally got together. It just makes sense she'd get you cleaned up first. No offense - that's how she is."

"What?" Tony released a quick scoff. "Look, I don't have time for this. If Angela's not there- wait a sec… Why are you in the house if Angela's not home?"

Michael's rising eyebrows made deep wrinkles in his forehead, "Uh, Jonathan let me in, Professor."

"Why didn't he answer the phone?"

"Because he's upstairs getting his stuff together! Sheesh! I just flew in from Oslo, extended my layover, and swung by to see if he wanted to hang out. What? I need a permission slip to see my son?"

Tony sighed, "Hey, look… it's not exactly normal to have your fiancée's ex answer the phone. But… good. …Yeah, good. I mean, Jonathan hasn't seen you in, what? Four and a half… five years?"

Michael made a return, buddy sigh, "Yeah, I've been non-stop since Heather and I split."

"You two busted up? I'm sorry to hear that. …Did you two, uh- ever have any kids?"

"She did. Not entirely sure if I had a hand in that or not."

Neither voice tried to fill the void for several seconds. Finally, Tony spoke seriously, "I'm… sorry, man."

Michael scoffed, "Yeah, well, beware of hot blondes, Tony… They'll eat you alive."

Tony didn't respond, so Michael took a stab at it.

"Damn, I can't believe it took you this long to get in with Angela, even if she were trying to be all orderly about it. Jonathan said you two have only been together a year! What the hell, dude?"

Tony let out a quick breath, "Yeah, okay. Well, you two have a good-"

But Michael kept going. "That's gotta be some kinda record – for her, I mean. But hey, she wants what she wants, right? Some distinguished gent who won't make her look bad?"

"Wha-"

"Now, she doesn't mind slumming, as long as the sex is good - but she'll snap out of it eventually."

"Hey!"

"You think I'm kidding?" The precision of Michael's voice sharpened. "You know that feeling you mentioned, having one of her ex-lovers answer her home phone? What if damn near every day, that fear's legit? And you're bustin' your ass, just tryin' to catch up with her tax bracket. Think about it, Tony. Guys like us, we trust women... Pretty face. Tight ass… We think if they say they love us, that means just us, even if they're way out of our league. But I'm here to tell you, it doesn't."

Tony took a breath or two before answering, "Yeah, well, Angela's not like Heather."

A booming laugh came out of Michael, "Wanna bet!? I don't know how far back you and Angela go, but you ever hear her talk about Grant Paxton?"

Tony didn't answer.

Michael grinned. "Ahh, so you do know the name." Almost under his breath, he thought into the receiver, "I always wondered if he'd come back for a taste…"

But a bitter laugh propelled him further into the dialogue, "Ya know something, Tony? She was working for that son of a bitch before I ever knew her. I dunno when they did what, but they ended up doing all the 'what' they wanted while we were married – and that was just the dick that really got her lickin' her chops. She wouldn't even tell me how many other fuckers spread those angel legs-"

"Okay, we're done here."

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