Chapter Six

As soon as Mona was gone, Angela heaved a sigh of relief and made a beeline for the phone. Behind her back, Tony shook his head affectionately. Angela couldn't get through five minutes of resting and recuperating before she started with the business calls. Tony put the last of the dishes in the dishwasher and hit the start button. He certainly couldn't talk. As awful as he felt, he had several days of housework to catch up on, not to mention two classes this morning.

He slipped out behind Angela, not wanting to disrupt her work, and headed for the coat rack. To his surprise, Angela followed him, the phone still tethered to her ear. "Tony, wait! You can't leave."

"I can't?"

"I need you here. I was just about to call my lawyer over to help us with the you-know-what in my safe."

This was ridiculous. "Angela, we're home alone. You can call it what it is."

"I'll call it what I like. It's half mine, and that's what I'm naming my half."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Boy, it's a good thing this marriage didn't produce any kids. They'd have been so confused every time we tried to call them in for dinner." He wrapped a scarf around his neck, trying to protect his already-sore throat from the cold. "I've got two classes this morning. I really shouldn't play hooky after missing school on Friday. Maybe we could meet with your guy in the afternoon?" There was no hurry, after all. Was there?

"Okay, that's fair," Angela agreed reluctantly. "Are you sure you're up to school today?"

"I'm sure I'm not."

"I thought as much. Not if you feel anything like I do."

"I can pull through, though. I'm tough." Tony curled an arm to show off his biceps, but the effect was ruined when he flinched and whined. "Ow!"

"What's wrong?"

"Eh, I think I pulled just about every muscle in my body during all the throwing up." Not to mention the stuff that had preceded the throwing up.

"Same," Angela confessed. "After you're done with class, and we've finished talking to my lawyer, you should take a long soak in my bathtub with some Epsom salts and eucalyptus oil. It did wonders for me."

That did sound nice, though he generally tried to avoid bathing in her tub wherever possible. It brought up memories of the time he'd seen her naked. Or, he supposed, from now on it would have to be known as the first time he'd seen her naked. "I just might take you up on that, thanks."

Tony went on to have one of the most unproductive, least educational days of his entire college experience. In chemistry, all he could do was try avoid Dr. Petrie's poisonous glare, keeping his head down and his mouth shut. In speech, he found himself too exhausted to concentrate on the lecture or understand a thing that was being said. In order to look like he was paying attention and taking notes, he spent the entire hour doodling Mrs. Angela Micelli all over his notebook.

He arrived home to find Angela seated at the kitchen table with a gentleman he didn't recognize. "Oh, good, Tony. You're home." Angela patted the seat next to her. "This is Jay, my lawyer."

Tony suspiciously eyed the guy up and down. "He doesn't look like no kind of lawyer I ever saw." He had the ruddy face of a man who spent a lot of time in the sun, a cheery white smile, and was dressed like an extra from The Cosby Show, in a polo shirt and a white cardigan, rather than a suit.

"Call me a wolf in sheep's clothing," said Jay, widening his toothy grin. "If you can look friendly and harmless, people let their guard down around you."

"Relax, Tony, he's on our side."

He ain't on my side. He's here to take my wife from me. Tony would never have said the words out loud. He felt ridiculous for evening thinking them. But they were true. He was furious with this guy he'd never met, and furious with Angela, through no fault of her own. She'd signed that silly little piece of paper locked up in her safe. She'd been blitzed when she'd done it, but there was some deep dark corner of her heart, however small and repressed, that had thought he was worth marrying.

He wasn't an idiot, and he wasn't a sleazeball. He had no intention of holding her to her promise if the rest of her wasn't on board with it. But when it came right down to it, he was getting dumped. He couldn't bring himself to be happy about it. "Pleased to meet you, Jay," he said unconvincingly, taking the seat beside Angela. He examined her face, which still had a touch of pallor about it. "How are you feeling?"

"A little better. I've been drinking a lot of water, like Dr. Perez told us to. How was class?"

Tony sighed wearily. "It's a good thing I like chemistry, because I'm going to be taking it again next semester." Grimly, he turned to face Jay. "So, what's the score? You got anything useful for us?"

Jay hesitated. "Well…"

"That's a no, then." Tony wasn't sure whether to kiss him or slug him. On the one hand, he didn't want to get dumped. But on the other, he didn't want Angela unwillingly chained to him by her ring finger for the rest of their natural lives.

"Not exactly. Angela's just finished giving me the whole story. Based on what she's told me, your mental capacity to consent was impaired at the time of the marriage. Lack of consent is definitely sufficient legal grounds for an annulment."

"But?" Tony and Angela prodded in unison. His tone clearly indicated it wasn't going to be as simple as they'd hoped. Or, well, as Angela had hoped, Tony thought bitterly.

"But it can be difficult to prove in court. You say you were drunk."

"We think so," said Angela uncertainly.

"Eh, probably?" Tony hazarded.

"Exactly. The law doesn't run on probablys." Jay was giving them a look of pity that Tony didn't care for.

"Well, it's not like they administered a blood alcohol test before the ceremony!" Angela snapped. "Although they probably should have."

"Yeah, that's really not a bad idea. We should start a petition to add that as a requirement in this state," Tony mused, marking it down on his mental to-do list. "But yeah, like Angela says, how are we supposed to prove something like that?"

"Ask around. See if you can find out who spiked the punch and get them to write a statement. Get witnesses to testify to your mental state. It was a party. There must have been people around who would have seen you acting strangely."

"Oh dear God, he's right!" Angela realized with dismay.

"Pfft, you think you've got it bad? You'll never see most of those kids again. I'm the one who's gotta look 'em in the eye every day for the next four years." He'd been about an inch away from wearing a ski mask to class today. "But I guess our hands are tied. We'll have to hunt 'em down." Tony scowled. "And when we do, I've got some unfinished business. It's kind of fuzzy, but I think that Mike kid might've stuffed me in a couch at some point."


The phone rang, and Angela was relieved for the distraction. "I'll get it," she volunteered, both because it might be work-related and because Tony looked absolutely exhausted. "Hello, Bower residence, this is Angela. Yes, he's right here. Who may I say is calling? Dean Brown?" Angela rubbed her forehead, racking her brain. Why did that name sound so familiar? She handed the receiver off to Tony. "It's for you, Tony. Someone named Dean Brown."

"Oh no." Tony's face took on the same sickly hue it had been displaying yesterday, and he recoiled from the phone as if it had teeth. "The Dean of Student Affairs. From what I hear, when that guy wants to talk with you, it's never good." He reluctantly put the receiver to his ear. "Hello? Yes, this is Anthony Micelli." Tony flinched, and held the phone away from his head. "When people call me by my full name, it's never good, either. The only way this could get any worse is if he threw my middle name in there, too."

He put the receiver back against his ear. "Yes, sir. Yes, I did attend a fraternity party at Gamma House last Thursday night." His eyes drifted suspiciously to Angela. "Yeah, I did have a racy blonde on my arm, what's it to ya? Your office? Tomorrow morning?" Tony covered the receiver's mouthpiece with his hand and looked to Jay beseechingly. "Is there any sort of legal loophole that'll get me out of this?"

Jay shook his head, sympathy in his eyes. "I'm afraid not."

"Eh, you're no help, you stuffed shirt." His hand had slipped, and apparently the dean had heard that. "No, not you, sir! Yes, ten o'clock will be fine. Yes, sir, I'll see you then." He passed the receiver back to Angela and then slumped over the table, moaning as if in pain. "Not even a semester into my stint as a college man, and here I'm getting called into the principal's office. And I'd promised myself I'd be a different kind of student, this time around."

Angela had never seen anyone look so miserable in all her life. She draped an arm around his shoulders. "Tony, stop. It'll be okay. We'll just explain the situation, and I'm sure he'll understand."

At that, Tony lifted his head. "'We?' You mean you'll come with me."

"Of course." Guilt flared within her. "This is my fault, anyway. I'm the one who talked you into going to that awful party in the first place."

Tony put an arm around her shoulders. "Ay-oh, I thought we agreed we were sharing the blame on this one?" He gave her a tremulous smile. "It was your idea, after all."

She was pleasantly surprised that he'd remembered her stipulation, with all that had come after it. "Thank you, Tony." It was a relief to know he wasn't angry with her. She didn't think she could have handled that, on top of everything else.

"If only every broken marriage I had to wrap up was this amicable." Jay was watching with no small amount of amusement. "The last annulment I handled, the two parties started a fistfight in court and had to be dragged apart by the bailiff. It was like one of those bad daytime talk shows."

"That'd never happen to us. Angela is morally opposed to violence." Tony rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "The woman won't even watch boxing, much less take a shot at anyone."

"And Tony doesn't hit girls. Not even when they have it coming, like Joanne Parker." Angela her temporary husband shared a groan at the thought of their shamelessly gossipy neighbor.

They escorted Jay to the door together, and he shook both their hands. "Let me know how the search for witnesses goes. If you have trouble digging them up on your own, give me a call. I know a few decent private investigators who would be able to help, for a price."

"Thanks for your help, Jay." At least they had a starting point now.

"Yeah, thanks," said Tony without enthusiasm, shooting a poisonous glare at the back of Jay's head as he exited. Angela's heart sank. She knew this was taking longer than Tony had probably hoped, but Jay was doing his best. She needed to get her mind off this. "Well, if I'm going to take the morning off tomorrow to go meet Dean Brown with you, I should probably buck up and try to work through the afternoon today." She glanced at her watch. "There's a train at one that I could make if I hustle."

Tony's poisonous glare softened into a worried frown. "You sure you're up to that?"

"I'm sure I'm not, but I already missed Friday and Saturday." And she needed something to focus on besides her emotionally scarred children and her soon-to-be ex-husband. Something productive. Something normal and boring. "Can you drive me to the train?"

"I'd be happy to. After you eat some lunch and drink at least eight ounces of water."

This would be a lot easier if he didn't keep supporting her, caring for her, and standing up for her like a true husband would. It was making her imagination run wild. She didn't blame him, of course. He was just being a good friend. She'd never thought about it before, but there was a lot of overlap between the duties of a good spouse and those of a good friend.

Her team at the office welcomed her back with open arms. Her cover story about being taken to the hospital with a sudden, serious illness was easy for them to buy, between her wan face, her hoarse throat, and the unmistakable bruise of an IV needle in her wrist. "By the time you didn't show up this morning, we were really worried about you, boss," Phil, the head of her art department, had been quick to let her know. "Your mother wouldn't give us a serious answer about where you were. When we asked, all we could get out of her were jokes that were off-the-wall even for her! Something about you getting drunk out of your mind at a frat party, disappearing for several days, and then turning up in bed with some guy in Pittsburgh."

Angela forced herself to laugh with him. "Yes, that was definitely a lie." Well, the part about Pittsburgh, anyway.

With all the work that had piled up over the two and a half days she'd missed, she realized in fairly short order that she was going to be late getting home. She was careful to call home to notify her wardens, meaning Samantha and Jonathan. "Staying out late again? Angela, I believe we told you you're grounded, young lady," Samantha teased her. "Do you want another week? 'Cause we can make that happen."

Samantha must have passed the phone to Jonathan, because it was his stern little voice she heard next. "For this, you're getting up early on Saturday morning to mow the lawn!" Angela was glad they'd at least calmed down enough to joke about it. Hopefully things would be back to normal, soon.

The kids had already finished their homework, had their dinner, and parked themselves in front of the TV by the time she made it home. She found her bridegroom passed out at the table, a textbook under his face and a pencil clasped loosely in his hand. "Tony?" She sat down beside him and shook him gently. "Tony, wake up." She felt terrible about waking him when he was so clearly exhausted, but The Big Book of Elementary Algebra wasn't much of a pillow, and he was going to end up with a stiff neck and a headache if he stayed where he was.

He opened his eyes a crack. "Mm. Morning, honey." And as if he'd done it a thousand times before, he leaned over to brush a soft good morning kiss against her lips.

It wasn't a particularly intense kiss. It only lasted a second or two. But it hit like a bolt of lightning, coursing through her entire body as if his lips had touched her everywhere at once. "Tony," she breathed. Even she wasn't sure whether it was a reprimand, an encouragement, or a simple expression of astonishment.

And he wasn't going to be helping her sort it out. He'd fallen right back to sleep.


Tony awoke to something intensely cold sliding down the back of his shirt. "Agh!" he howled, flailing to life and ripping off his shirt to rid himself of the thing, whatever it was. "What the hell was that?"

The only other person in the room was Angela, but even if they'd been surrounded, he would have known her for the culprit. The guilty grimace on her face was unmistakable. "An ice cube," she confessed. "Sorry, but I was having a lot of trouble waking you. I know you must be as exhausted as I am." Her eyes raked over his bare arms, and he took a moment to congratulate himself on his physique. Then they landed on his inner left elbow, and he realized what she had been looking for. "Your bruise from the IV needle is healing nicely, at least."

He bent down to retrieve his shirt. "Yeah. I'll be back in mint condition in no time. Just gotta keep following doctor's orders. Speaking of which, there's a plate warming in the oven with your name on it. Don't worry, it's nothing too difficult. Baked eggs and some creamed spinach, with a ramekin of rice pudding. Make sure you eat all of it, though."

"Look at you," said Angela, sounding completely exasperated.

"What?" A man did not want to hear those words in that tone from his wife, when he was standing in front of her half-naked. He held his shirt against his bare chest self-consciously.

"Always trying to look out for everyone else, even when you're fresh from the hospital, yourself." Her tone was still exasperated, but also held a smidge of affection. "Thanks for trying to wait up for me, Tony. But really, go on up to bed. I promise I'll eat and drink before I do the same." She raised a hand in the Boy Scout greeting. "Ad exec's honor, okay?"

As comical as the vow may have sounded to anyone else, knowing the importance she placed on her professional reputation, Tony understood that he could take such a promise to the bank. "Okay. I guess I can get up a little early and finish my reading then. It'll be fresher in my mind for class tomorrow that way, anyway. And I would like to get back to sleep. I was having the best dream right before you woke me." He sighed happily at the memory of her lips melting into his.

"Oh? What about?"

Angela's question sounded a little too casual, and it was disconcerting to him. He hoped he hadn't moaned her name in his sleep the way she'd once done. "Oh, the usual," he replied with complete honesty.