Addendum 6.1 – "Savor the Veal 'pt. 4'"

April 1993 – Branford, IA

Angela's key clinked as she placed it on the wooden front counter of The Branford Suites.

"Alright, there, ma'am. Looks like we got you all checked out." The smiley clerk looked up from his monitor to the gigantic, dark sunglasses covering a sizeable portion of Angela's face. "We hope you enjoyed your stay in Branford and you come back real soon."

Angela forced yet another smile in that town, "Thank you." Turning around, she adjusted the shoulder strap of her gym bag, and hefted the entirety of her weight through the lobby.

She felt so weak, and her terrible night's sleep hadn't helped.

Muscles aching, esophagus burning, she'd tossed and turned throughout the memorable part of the night and woke with a no-sleep headache compounding the one from her fight with Tony. She'd debated paying for another night at the hotel, just to get some sleep before driving, but she had to get out of there.

Two cups of cheap coffee and three ibuprofen later, she'd slipped on her sunglasses in the elevator and spent the ride with her head tipped back against the wall. Her hangover was entirely emotional, and the thought of being recognized, pitied, or otherwise embarrassed by red, puffy eyes and lashes only thinly covered by repeated, tear-soaked swipes of mascara was enough to make her run away.

She was grateful for the jeans and sneakers she was wearing that morning. At least something is comfortable. But mostly she was humiliated. And angry.

Tony likes my sexual aggression, but then acts like I'll never live up to the virtue of his first wife? He's not even trying to understand!

It hurt. She kept seeing him hold up that stupid photo and yelling at her. The worst part was, she knew he loved her. This is what someone who loves me and knows me intimately is willing to believe about me. Is love worth that?

A familiar pain, heavy and vicious, overtook her and she ushered its instigator into her consciousness without contest. 'You're a fucking whore!'

She almost wanted to wave it hello. It was starting to feel like this old, if not yet dear, acquaintance was onto something.

Then a brief wisp of a thought, hero or villain, she didn't know, brought the image of a gentle, therapeutic make-out session in the driver's seat of Grant's Bentley to her already disheveled mind.

Ugh! She shoved the longing down and smothered it with exhaustion. Maybe they're right.

Angela pushed her whole, right palm against her forehead and pulled herself toward the front doors. She couldn't rid herself of that cheap feeling.

She wasn't in the market for Grant. Grant was old news. He was from a different time in impossible circumstances, and her heart was with Tony.

Tony was who she'd built a life with. Tony was the one who had supported her with zero ego, cheered for her success, and held her when she was defeated. He openly looked at her like she was his private wish, and she had never felt more seen.

At least, that's how it used to be. Is that still him?

But with her bleeding heart dripping across the freshly mopped lobby, the memory of being effectively soothed from what had been devastating at the time was difficult to ignore. Doing her best to shake off the distant, but luxurious, temptation, Angela set her mind on embracing distance from Tony, even if she had to do it one haggard, lonely step at a time.

But the automatic front doors of the hotel opened, and Tony, himself, hurried inside. His drained face looked left, then right, and steeling herself, Angela stopped walking until he saw her.

"Angela!" he jogged up to her with heavily dipped eyebrows.

"Hey, Coach!" yelled the janitor from across the echoey room. "What's this I hear about you skippin' town?"

"Uh, hey, there, Brady." His gaze flickered to Angela, then back to the man with the mop. "I'll hafta get back to you on that."

There was only one hotel in town, so Angela wasn't surprised he'd found her, even at the correct time, but she was still annoyed. And hopeful, of course.

Damn it.

"You leavin'?" he said, still trying to catch his breath.

She didn't take her glasses off, and she let her small voice aid the camouflage, "Yes."

Tony sighed, made an awkward move toward her arm, then stopped himself. She didn't move a muscle.

Angela sighed, too, though not the same way he did, and his flickering gaze grounded on her duffle, "You packed light."

She didn't appreciate the interlude and responded dry as a bone, "I came to help you pack. There's not a lot of room in the jeep, and you could shove this anywhere." She wanted to add, and lingerie isn't bulky, but that slutty feeling was not a place she wanted company.

"Well, thanks."

Angela nodded.

Tony dipped up his brows again, "Angela, can we talk?"

She took a long breath, "I have a few minutes."

"Can we go for a walk?"

She nodded again and started to follow his leading arm while bluntly watching his other. It never touched the small of her back.


Tony led her down the idyllic, smalltown streets. Now, not being stuck there, Angela could see the inherent charm in the multi-storied, generations-deep, brick buildings with their tall windowfronts calling to passersby.

The stationary store where she'd picked up Tony the daintiest, handmade Valentine was only a couple blocks in front of them. She'd spent that day trying her hand at a strawberry-glazed, angel food cake, and Tony had seemed impressed. Was he? Or was he just placating me? The phrase, 'It's always bothered me,' had been worming around in her mind since he'd said it, and now she was questioning just about everything.

She visibly shuddered and hugged herself. I feel so dirty.

"You okay?" Tony's thin voice tried.

"No. Are you?"

He sighed, "No."

That's what I thought... All this time, he's acted like I'm the hottest thing he's ever seen, but that's not what he wants in the long run.

Must be a bummer of a realization, seeing as we've spent all these years falling in love!

Angela scowled at him through the slight transparency the crisp, 7am rays provided her sunglasses, and Tony was not left wondering what he was encroaching.

He looked at her cautiously, "Uh, Angela." He swallowed thickly and swung his arms, finally deciding to fold them over his chest.

Her impatient eyebrows went up, and she refused to admire the arm muscles she was sure he was aware were showing through his baseball jacket, muscles that could be protecting her and weren't.

That hurts. That hurts a whole lot.

Tony was holding a deep breath as his thoughts started to configure aloud. "About last night. You got me thinkin'… a bunch."

Angela hated how scared she was. She wanted to be mad. She didn't want him to have taken stock of what he'd said and honestly believe it. But it felt like that's exactly what was coming. He wants a different kind of wife, even if he loves me.

He wasn't speaking, and the silence was excruciating. When she couldn't stand not knowing even more than she couldn't stand knowing, her exhale reached for him, "About what?"

They were almost to the stationary store when Tony dragged his whole upper lip past his lower teeth and started with a great deal of caution, "You know when you asked me if I'd be okay with you doin' everything I did on the road?"

Angela made a dry blink.

"Well, I may not have… I mean, I didn't… give the exact… right impression last night."

"Please don't try to tell me you didn't mean it, Tony. You did."

Tony nodded quickly, and his perforated words came out through necessary breaths, "Yeah. I did."

Tears started to fill up her eyes, but she didn't look away.

"I meant it, cuz I thought I was coming from a different place."

Her brows scrunched, "What?"

With a quick breath, he blurted, "I thought I was coming from a pretty reasonable place. In my marriage."

Angela squinted… What?

He sighed, "I kind of… told myself some things I did back then were okay, or at least not that bad… or not as bad as they coulda been – the lesser of two evils, ya know?"

She cocked her head at him, her jaw wired shut.

While still hesitant, Tony did eventually get the ball rolling. "See, I was goin' out with Marie in high school, and after graduation, I got picked up by a D league upstate. We were still datin', but I'd had lots of girlfriends at that point," he shrugged, "and it just, kind of, still felt like teenager stuff, ya know? And being away from home, I felt more like a grown-up…. more than she was." He sighed again, "So, I… pretty much, did whatever I wanted while I was away."

Angela neither responded nor granted him dropped eye contact.

"But then I'd come home, and I could tell I wasn't the only one noticin' her. One night, we had this big fight on the street below her folks' apartment. I asked her to marry me, right then and there. I knew I loved her, and I knew she loved me. She was exactly the kind of girl I wanted to end up with."

Angela's whole body tightened. Breathe.

"And I didn't want another guy gettin' her. I felt like such a man when she said, 'yes'…" Tony smiled widely, "It was terrific. It felt like I was finally comin' full circle – settin' everything in motion for the life I wanted."

Full circle? Angela's breathing started to calm, and she looked forward as she listened.

"After we got married that winter, life was great. We got our own little place. Marie was beaming. I was beaming." A cocky grin escaped, "She got pregnant the very first month."

Angela rolled her eyes. Not as uncommon as you might think, there, Spartacus. "You two didn't do anything before you were married?"

Tony's brows flicked in consideration, "I wouldn't say we didn't do anything…" then went down in sincerity, "but we didn't have sex."

Ah, of course not. She wasn't a 'girl you fool around with'.

Angela remembered her mother's intended encouragement when she'd informed Angela of Tony's admitted philosophy on their flight home from Jamaica. It didn't feel so good this time around.

Angela shuddered and hugged herself.

Tony hesitated, but when Angela didn't push further, he kept going, "Anyway, them minors teams don't pay much, and I was on the off season anyway, bummin' a job off Mrs. Rossini at the fish store. Marie and I started fightin' about money, and her parents were all, 'I told you so'…" his dopey voice relived. "We always made up pretty fast, but still, that went on for years."

They'd long passed the stationary store and were headed to town square. Occasionally, other people dotting the sidewalks would pass by, but generally speaking, it was a quiet morning, like it would be a quiet afternoon, in Branford, Iowa.

"Well, I started gettin' picked up by bigger leagues, and by the time I got to triple A, there were a lot more fans. I mean, when I was at home, things were great, when Marie wasn't yappin' at me to turn the TV down so I wouldn't wake Sam up."

Angela's eyes slowly traveled in his direction.

He smiled nostalgically, "But, nah, we were really happy together, I thought. Her parents or Mrs. R would watch Sam for us, and sometimes we'd go bowling or to the movies. Usually, we'd just head down to Marty's; Marie got better at throwin' darts than I did," he allowed a little laugh. "And Sam, she was such a mama's girl when she was little. She'd say things just like Marie would: 'Oh, isn't that just delicious?'" Tony emulated with a drop to his wrist, then he laughed. "You'd swear you were talkin' to a young woman and not a little girl." He shook his head with a smile, "Me and my girls. We were great."

Angela's own face accidentally brightened before Tony's tone changed.

"But on the road, things started getting a little more… complicated. I dunno, it was only triple A, maybe it was a full moon, but there were these girls, and they were takin' their shirts off, wantin' me to sign their chests. I kissed a girl on the cheek for a picture, and she kissed me on the mouth. I didn't know what was my fault, their fault, what was okay, what wasn't… But I kinda liked it." His eyes flickered over to Angela again, "A lot... Pretty soon, I was suggesting it, gettin' more comfortable with all the attention and- and where I could go with it. …I went pretty far."

Angela's rigidity was back, but she didn't interrupt.

"Life started to get more tense, with not much to show for it. I didn't know how much longer I should be holdin' out hope that I'd ever make it to the bigs. We had Sam, and I loved my little girl – I loved Marie! - but I spent so much time away from both of 'em… It kinda started to feel like they were my other life."

Angela squinted, but Tony didn't appear to notice.

"Then, spring training came up in '80. I finally did somethin' to impress the scouts, and they called me up to the Cards. Everything was workin' out! But Marie didn't know anybody in Missouri, and I was still gonna be away a bunch. So, I suggested she move back in with her parents – just for that first season, see how it went," he shrugged. "So, she did, but uh- …well, that started feelin' really familiar again. Me, far away. Marie, back with her folks."

Angela's eyes narrowed.

"I wasn't just on the road for forever and finally comin' home to my wife. I was on the road and comin' home to nobody but the buttheads on my team who thought it was hilarious I couldn't get any action when girls were fightin' each other just to jump in the windows! Those were some long nights, and the more pissed I got, the more confusing everything else got."

Angela wouldn't inhale until he told her more.

"It was a long time away. The girls were aggressive. The guys encouraged it. And I hadn't seen Marie in weeks. So, I started going to some bars with the guys. We'd drink and play pool. Pretty soon, I'm leanin' over these chicks, teachin' 'em how to rack it. We started dancin'… feelin' each other up. Then, uh-" He started breathing fast, then whipped his face toward Angela's unimpressed one and threw his right hand up, "I wasn't sleepin' with these other women; I promise!"

Then his hand dropped, and his features slowly contorted into a most uncomfortable looking position. "But I- uh… I didn't… exactly… have to."

Angela squinted, then several seconds went by before she caught on. "…Oh, my God! Are you serious? You were shoving your nose in the air, letting Michael get you worried about me, when you knew how terrified I should be of you!? You thought this was fine!?"

Tony patted the air between them, trying to simmer her down. "Angela, please. I'm almost done, okay? You gotta know this stuff."

With a fixed glare, she shut up and hugged herself tighter.

He continued in a pained voice, "I told myself it wasn't really sex. Just takin' the edge off, and honest to God, Angela, these women did not need encouragement. Well, you've seen it! You remember Betty!"

Angela's glare tightened, and he sped forward.

Tony sighed, "I wasn't 'technically' having sex… but I cheated the shit outta Marie. I got off, got other women off – really well-"

Did he just brag?

"and- and I got to," he waved toward Angela's words, "stick my nose in the air, cuz I'd wanted to do so much more but wouldn't cuz I was married."

Then he stopped speaking so fast. His gaze followed the nothing in front of them as his voice hollowed out, "May 8th, 1981, I was with the team in a hotel in Pittsburgh. I'd bribed my roommate to leave with the promise of stories to come. But then, uh- …then the manager ended up bangin' on my door… He told me Marie was in the hospital. I was so scared…" Tony's voice started to waver. "I uh- I had the woman leave before we finished things up."

He took several seconds before he continued, and Angela wouldn't have interrupted his pause for anything in the world.

"I bawled for 2 hours before I worked up the courage to go to the airport."

Then he swallowed and started hurrying again, "By the time I got to Brooklyn, I found out she'd died pretty fast. I guess it was her heart," he shrugged vacantly. "I didn't really hear what the doctor said."

With barely any detectable inflection to his voice, Angela found herself straining toward him, even though she could hear him just fine.

"The first thing I did was leave Sam with Mrs. Rossini and go out and get laid."

Her jaw dropped, and Tony noticed.

"I couldn't deal with it- How do you deal with that!? The pain? The guilt?"

Angela didn't answer, and she didn't want to empathize. She was starting to like her hurt.

"My family, my perfect future was gone. I was dyin' to feel better, and that was my favorite way."

But Angela's mouth did finally shut.

"I buried her, left Sam with Mrs. R again, and went back to St. Louis. I busted my shoulder the next month, but before that, I got more notches in my bed post than any other guy on the team. They revered me for it, and that felt pretty good, too."

Angela couldn't tell if she was madder for Marie or herself. She'd started to feel a rivalry last night she'd never experienced, being so heartlessly compared to perfection. But now, she wanted to throw her arm around the woman's shoulder and glare down at the man they'd both loved.

The dirty feeling she'd had since Tony had held up that condemning photo was quickly morphing into a vixen-like righteousness. Shame was nowhere to be found.

A few men, in what she found to be varying degrees of attractiveness, passed opposite them on the sidewalk, and it took everything in her not to jump up into any of their arms and start Frenching him furiously in front of Tony.

"Angela, please say something," Tony's thin voice reached.

Not too far under her fury was a massive fear she knew wasn't paranoia. These 'technicalities' are dangerous. Do we really have to delineate all possible contingencies?

Her thoughts formed in bit of a stutter, "Ton-" she breathed. "Tony, do you really expect me to buy this? H- how could you convince yourself that was okay? I mean, all this time, you've- …Really? You thought that was okay?"

He started a sideways nod, but she interrupted, "-okay enough to strut around all these years, like you had something to be proud of!?" Tony started to shrink back, but she didn't stop. "-okay enough to deny it when I asked if you were faithful to her?"

He chose then to pipe up, "Well, with that, it was just the first thing that came to mind, cuz everything was really hard at the time, and still, I absolutely would not go all the way."

"You did go all the way, Tony. You just didn't get to enjoy the full benefit."

Tony let out a long exhale, "Angela, please believe me. It's not that I didn't love her… Actually, the more I thought about how much I loved her, the deeper the lies had to be. It's how I've coped!"

She glared at him. The begging for pity burned when she didn't even feel the capacity for respect.

"Well, at least it wasn't a big, fat lie, because that could be really worrisome."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"I can't believe you would speak to me like you did when you had this propped in your closet! Damn it, Tony, don't you love me at all?"

"What are you talking about!? Of course, I love you! That's why I was so scared by what Michael said! I know exactly how sexy and smart and funny and in charge you are. Any guy would want you! The thought that maybe you'd want someone else, and it was just a matter of some other guy sayin', 'yes' - baby, I'd be left in the cold so fast!"

Unbelieving, her voice squeaked, "What makes you think I'd do that to you!? I love you!"

"You did it to Michael! Didn't you love him?"

Angela stopped walking. Spinning slowly on the ball of her foot, she faced Tony. And even with him shadowing that diagonal, morning light, her eyes were still close enough for him to make out through the deep, black shades.

Low and quiet, she made herself clear, "Again: you have no idea what happened with me and Michael."

Tony leaned in, and his voice held a much higher pitch than hers. "I know what I saw! I know what I helped you do! And I know you were still married at the time! That's some idea! You know, maybe- …okay, I mean, yes: just going off technicalities is no way to have a marriage. But technicalities are important, too!"

His honest fear hurt her. He really believes it's just a matter of some Joe Schmoe wining and dining me into bed? Really?

She spoke with the raspy texture of truth, "Tony, you know me. You've lived with me for over 8 years. Doesn't that mean anything to you? Don't I?"

He grabbed her hands, and she was too interested in the cause to retract them, "Yes. Baby, yes! Why in the world would I tell you all this if you didn't matter to me? I'm sure not braggin', now! I don't wanna lose you, and I'd always be scared of that, if I'd left it on my conscience!"

Angela didn't move. She was dumbfounded. He looked so sincere. Like Michael. In a cracked whisper and teary shrug, she whispered, "If you want to be with me so badly, why won't you love me?"

Tony's face scrunched.

"Why won't you care about what my life was like? Why is what I did to Michael more important to you than why I did it?"

"Angela, I was just saying technicalities are important. I wanted you to say what we both know: that that's bad. Then we can backtrack from there." He let go and threw his hands in the air, "I can say it: I cheated on Marie, and that was really bad! But if you aren't even willing to say it's wrong..." He reached for her arms and started to squeeze them, "Baby, I'm dyin' here! We've gotta agree on that. I need it!"

Angela flapped her wings enough for him to let go, "Tony, when I'd decided to accept Grant's pursual, I was done with Michael. I'd already filed and wasn't going to wait around for him to get sick of pooping outside!"

Tony shoved his pointer finger to the naked base of his left ring finger, "Married is married. It's still wrong! Why won't you say that!?"

"Why are you so insistent I say anything? You aren't even listening to me!"

He tipped his head back, and let out a puff of pent-up air, "Yes, I am! Michael's no picnic; I get it!" He dropped his attention back to her hardening face, "But damn, Angela, my life was hard, too! My wife was a thousand miles away, and I had truckloads of hot babes grabbin' me everywhere. Marie and I shared our apartment with roaches and expired canned goods, not just some… jerky guy on Oak Hills Drive! What does that have to do with what we're talkin' about here? I never admitted I was wrong and look where it got me! I just need you to say you were wrong!"

Angela started to feel cold. Slowly, she took off her sunglasses, bringing those puffed, bloodshot eyes into the light, and a worried expression flashed across Tony's face. Shivering, she whispered, "This is not how you love me, Tony. I've felt that. This isn't it."

She slid her shades back on and her voice steadied, "By the way, every time you insist you loved your wife, I get really scared."

Turning around, she left him on the sidewalk.


April 1993 - Dane County Regional Airport, Madison, WI

Angela stared down at the ticket in her shaking hands. Her mind had shut down for the entirety of the drive over. She'd had the heater on but wasn't surprised that she'd never warmed up. Those things had never helped her heart.

She didn't even want to process all Tony had said. She couldn't get past how alone she'd felt with him.

A memory of him covering her eyes as he'd led her down to the "prom" he'd designed for her singular joy made her smile.

And cry again.

He'd been holding onto her arm, but he'd felt closer than that.

She knew him. That's who he really was.

Where are you, Tony?

A little giggle escaped through the tears as she remembered other smiles he'd made. The night before Emily had come for a visit, she'd beat him and his roughneck buddies at poker. She liked who she was that night, the next day. That made her smile, too - the person she was when she was with him. What a great night. I've learned so much with him, because of him.

That's who we are, together.

She sniffed an embarrassing bubble of snot and dug out a tissue from her purse. Blowing her nose was louder than she'd wanted, but she was too tired to care. She looked out the huge windows separating herself from the tarmac. A plane landed as she watched.

She didn't want to be there. She didn't want to go home. She didn't want to be anywhere.

Things weren't okay with her and Tony, and to her, that meant things weren't okay. She felt itchy, and she could smell something fried and sugary nearby.

Angela let out a deep sigh. That's not going to help. Though, she almost didn't care.

Her thumbnail went into her mouth, and she eyed at least that bit of control, slowly running it along the edge of her tooth. She could tear it if she wanted to.

She didn't. Exhaling quickly, she sat on her hand and, oddly, remembered doing the same thing on a train, years ago. She'd been so antsy, so desperate for approval. Those pesky, almost-mythical thoughts of Grant's calm, which came when she most needed them not to, shot across her mind.

Bolting to her feet, Angela collected her things and made her way to the ticket counter.

"I need to trade this in."

"Of course," the young woman replied. "Which flight were you wanting?"

Angela leaned in close, "Whatever's the next flight to San Jose, San Francisco, Oakland… I don't care. Just get me to Stanford."


A/N: The actual lack of grey area in Tony's baseball history was brought to my attention after posting my last chapter (in particular by AngelEyes1412, HypeWryterEnt, and hilary122 - and they gave me specific scenes to consider.) Thank you, guys!

Another big thanks to bostonbarmaid for helping me further sort the intricacies and implications of this timeline and reminding me of Tony's "girls you fool around with" and "girls you marry" distinction. It seemed to us that the show stayed within its style of offering conveniently confusing information into the characters' backstories and values.

I do try very hard to make this story align with the canon, explaining, extrapolating, and expounding where I like. If I went too far, or not far enough, I hope you can still enjoy where I take it. Personally, I like it better this way. Thank you, all, for the help and encouragement!