A/N: There is no plan. This meandering story has taken on a life of its own. I do think it is unrealistic for everything to be wrapped up in a neat bow in the course of a few months, though. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and given me encouragement.
Chapter Forty-Five: Dead Wax
Saturday, March 9, 1991
"Did you know about this?" Angela asked, standing and crossing her arms.
Tony considered his options. If he pretended not to know that Jonathan and Luke had a romantic interest in each other, he could get caught in the lie. Having just called her out for her untruthfulness, it would be foolhardy to play dumb. He chose candor. "First of all, I think it's important that you know their relationship is completely innocent. All they've done is hold hands."
"My baby is going to be alone in a hotel room with a sixteen-year-old!"
"Luke's parents are going to be there, too, Angela. And they're not sharing a bed or anything. Jonathan's sleeping on the couch."
"How could you keep this from me?" she asked.
"It wasn't my secret to tell. Jonathan came to me in confidence."
"And you thought it was acceptable for him to take a trip with his boyfriend? Would you have let Sam go at his age?"
"Probably not, but she was more advanced, and so were the boys she went out with. Jonathan and Luke aren't that bold. They haven't even kissed."
"What if they decide to while they're in Atlantic City?"
Tony shrugged. "What if they do? He's kissed girls before." He wilted under her angry glare. "I said no hickeys," he told her in a weak voice.
"I'm tempted to drive down there and get him."
"Please don't. All that will do is embarrass him and make him mad at both of us."
Angela flopped back onto the couch. "You knew. Mother knew. Why didn't he tell me?" she wondered aloud. "I'm his mommy."
Tony pulled her closer. "That's why. You still see him as a child, and he cares a lot about what you think of him. For what it's worth, I don't think he said anything to Mona. She just picks up on things."
"What about Sam?" she asked with a pleading glance.
"Yeah, he talked to her." Angela scowled in discontent. "They're closer than they've ever been, honey. And she's young and open-minded. Of course he was going to talk to her first."
"So is he gay? Or bisexual?" she wondered.
"He's figuring it out, sweetheart. Give him time," Tony said, stroking her hair. They sat together for a long while, just processing the development. "What do you want to do tomorrow?" he finally asked.
"Sam's going to come by in the morning to get her ski gear. Why don't we have breakfast together, and then you and I can go antiquing?"
"Sounds good. We can just take it easy the rest of today. Maybe watch a movie?"
"Alright," Angela said, snuggling into Tony's chest. She soon dozed off, and he let her sleep until she woke up on her own. Luckily, the TV Guide was within reach.
"Hey, sleeping beauty," he said as she stretched her arms. "Feeling better?" She nodded, not quite fully alert. "We can watch Beverly Hills Cop at nine, or I can go rent something."
"Beverly Hills Cop," she mumbled, hugging him around the middle once more.
Sunday, March 10, 1991
The next morning, Sam arrived while Angela was still upstairs getting ready for the day. Tony greeted her with a hug and helped her find her skis, boots, and poles. While they were in the basement, he confessed, "I screwed up and let Jonathan go to Atlantic City without telling Angela he and Luke are…you know."
"Into each other?" she asked with a laugh.
"Yeah, I made him promise to tell her, but then she and I had a fight right before he was supposed to leave. So I let him go, but then Mona blabbed after he left."
"He hasn't even told Mona!"
"You know how she's always in everyone's business, Sam."
"Don't we all?" she retorted. "So, who are you in trouble with, Angela or Jonathan?"
"The only reason I'm not in trouble with Angela is that she lied to me about something pretty important. And the only reason I'm not in trouble with Jonathan is that he doesn't know yet. We talked to him for a couple of minutes last night when he got in, but he was eager to get off the phone."
"You're not making me sorry I moved out."
"Can I ask you a personal question, Sam?"
"You can ask. I'll have to decide whether I'm going to answer."
"Do you ever feel like you're betraying your mom by being so close to Angela?"
"I used to, sometimes, but Mom isn't here." Sam turned to Tony. "I don't think you can compare your situation to mine. I didn't go and find another woman to be with while Mom was still alive."
"You knew?"
"You were on the road a lot. I figured things out when I got older."
"You must think I'm a monster," Tony said, a lump growing in his throat.
"I think you were probably lonely and facing a lot of temptation," Sam said. "It was a long time ago, Dad. Just don't let anything like that happen again. Kathleen was bad enough."
They loaded Sam's ski gear into her car and came back into the house for coffee and French toast. Angela was already in the kitchen pouring herself a mug. Tony began gathering items from the fridge.
"Are you excited for this week?" Sam asked. "No work, no kids, no Mona, just you and the dust bunnies?"
"It'll be a change of pace. I'm sure I'll be busy trying to do all the things your dad normally takes care of."
"Why don't we make the French toast together, honey?" Tony asked. He came up behind Angela and turned on the griddle, then wrapped one hand around her stomach while cracking eggs into a dish with the other hand. "You can whisk," he instructed, as he began adding the rest of the ingredients. "A little butter on the griddle," he said, cutting off a chunk and flinging it onto the hot surface. "And the bread. Dip, flip, plop," he said, working around her.
"You're still doing most of it, dear," she said.
"Go ahead, you can do another slice and then turn the first one with a spatula," he advised her, stepping back to coach from a couple of feet away.
"You two are adorable. I'm so glad I get to come home and see this. And also leave when it gets sickening," Sam joked. Angela put two slices of French toast on a plate and Tony served it to his daughter. "Pretty good," she judged.
"Really?" Angela asked, eager for feedback.
"Yeah, you did a great job. Next time try it without that growth on your back."
By the time Angela finished cooking French toast for Tony and herself, Sam was done eating. She kissed each of them on the cheek and disappeared out the door with promises that she would drive carefully.
"Just the two of us," he observed.
"Sometimes it feels like we're already married," she mused.
They drove north, spending most of the day perusing various antique stores and flea markets. All they bought were a few vases and a pair of table lamps that needed shades, but they did manage to discuss the next steps.
"There's hardwood under all that pink carpet," Angela said. "And I wouldn't mind tiling the bathroom."
"That's a great idea. I don't know who thought up wall-to-wall bathroom carpet," Tony complained.
"We should wait until this audit is done, though. I wish I knew what the red flag was."
"I guess we'll find out soon enough."
When they got home, they left the new lamps and vases downstairs and took a shower together. Once clean, they put on robes and made sandwiches, laughing and goofing off the whole time. After they ate, Tony put on a record, and they danced together, forgetting all their troubles.
"We should turn in early. Tomorrow's a big day," she said, swaying in his arms and looking up into his eyes.
"Have I told you how much your support means to me?" he asked. "I wouldn't be the person I am today if you hadn't inspired me to go after my dreams."
"I feel exactly the same way about you. I can trace so many wonderful things in my life back to the day I hired you."
"It's hard to believe we've been together less than three months. In some ways, it's flown by. But I also feel like we've always been destined for this."
"I didn't believe in that kind of thing before," she told him. "Soulmates. The idea is absurd."
"What made you believe?" he asked, sliding his hands down her hips. They had given up completely on dancing.
"Kissing rock."
"Makeout rock? Boy, am I glad I went back and carved Ingrid's name!"
"We could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble if we had just given in that night we got stuck in the motel together."
"I don't know about that. I think it had to happen the way it did," he said.
"Why?"
"Because I wasn't brave enough back then. But now I am. Angela, can I make love to you?"
"I wish you would," she responded, pulling him toward the stairs and turning off the downstairs lights. The record player's needle ran into dead wax right about the time they reaffirmed their love by joining together.
