A/N: I decided to add another M-rated chapter just before this. See "Bobby and Jess Take Things Further" "Chapter Three: Laundry Room" for the night before or feel free to skip it.

Chapter Twenty: Art Gallery

Friday morning, Tony awoke with a start. He recalled the previous night and squeezed his eyes closed for a few seconds. When he opened them, Angela was only inches away, staring at him. She drummed her fingers on his bare chest. "We really had sex, didn't we?" she asked calmly, as if confirming their encounter wasn't a dream.

"Yeah, we did." It had been unplanned. They'd just gotten carried away. But he didn't regret it. "I wanted our first time to be romantic. I wanted to make love to you," he told her.

"It was good, though, wasn't it?" she asked, receiving a small nod and a big smile. "Do you still want to make love to me?" she asked. "Like right now?"

They had time. It was barely six in the morning, and he didn't have to be at work until ten. The kids wouldn't wake up for a good hour. He reached out and stroked her cheek, leaning in to give her a soft kiss. "I do," he confirmed, rolling on top of her.

It was slower, more relaxed than their first time had been. They expressed themselves verbally, as well as physically, and clung to each other when it was over.

"I'm really happy. Even though we didn't plan it out, I'm glad it happened," she said.

"Me too. I thought I'd have to take you on a second date before you put out, but seeing as how we're married, it's not so bad," he kidded.

"We can still date and get to know each other better," she suggested. "And continue sleeping together," she added.

"I'd like that," he whispered, unable to resist planting a gentle kiss on her lips. When he pulled back, she chased him, and he gave in, following her into a sweet and short makeout session.

"I love you," she said quietly. "I really and truly do."

"I love you, too. I can't imagine being married to anyone else."

It was impossible to hide their bliss from Mona. "You got lucky," she told Tony, punching him in the arm as he struggled to remember how to make coffee.

"Yeah, incredibly lucky," he responded with a dreamy smile, letting her take over with the filter and grounds.

"Well, hopefully, I'll get lucky, too. I have a dinner date with Lawrence tonight. He's picking me up at seven."

"The guy from the arcade? What happened to Ricky?"

"He's still in rotation."

Angela floated down the stairs wearing her pink robe over her pajamas. "Congratulations, dear," Mona called.

"Mom, what did he tell you?"

"I didn't have to tell her anything," Tony said, pulling her in for a lingering kiss. He made breakfast for the family, once he got his wits about him, dishing out poached eggs and hash browns just as the kids came downstairs.

Mona got her Arizona license taken care of first thing in the morning, then went to the salon for a manicure, feeling slightly guilty for using Ricky's pin money to prepare for a date with another man. They weren't exclusive. She'd told both of them that she was done with monogamy.

When she got home, the house was empty. Tony had gone to work and Angela had taken the kids along to run errands. She enjoyed the solitude, bringing out the boombox and blasting an Aerosmith tape from the library.

Angela maneuvered the sunny-colored tank through the neighborhood with Sam in the co-pilot's seat. She was starting to feel like a regular mom. Her old station wagon hadn't inspired any maternal feelings. Michael had bought it while she was pregnant, insisting over her objections that it would be great for camping. She had no desire to camp and was upset that he had traded in her sporty BMW without permission. When she was promoted to VP at Wallace and McQuade, she brought home the Jaguar, prompting another marital squabble. She promised herself that wouldn't happen with Tony.

First stop was the library, returning some items and selecting others to borrow. Then they went grocery shopping, careful to stick to the list Tony had prepared. Her confidence in the kitchen was growing, but she still got his approval on her meal planning. He was packing his own lunches now, having cleaned out the breakroom refrigerator and implemented a labeling system.

With both of them working beginning the following week, the tentative household routine would have to change again. Nobody seriously expected Mona to cook or clean, so they were going to try to balance certain things on their own. Whenever Bobby had a shift starting at 9am or later, which would be most days, Tony would make breakfast. Angela would feed the kids something simple on the other days, allowing Jess to be on time to the office. On Bobby's days off, Tony would make dinner. Otherwise, Angela would prepare that meal.

After pulling into the garage, Angela opened the rear hatch, sending each child in with a bag and leaving two bags for herself. She noticed a floor panel and an extra pair of seat belts attached to the ceiling just behind the rear bench. There must be a hidden jump seat, she realized. That would come in handy if the kids wanted to take their friends along on some excursion. Or if they added a family member. The idea was gone as soon as it had appeared, banished from consciousness for its audacity.

Sam helped put the groceries away while Jonathan went outside to do whatever it was little boys liked to do. She hung around Angela and chatted about nothing, enjoying the feeling of being Jess' daughter Jen, a girl who had a stable, lower middle class upbringing complete with a younger brother, a live-in grandmother, and two parents who were very much in love. She couldn't put a finger on how she knew her father's relationship with Angela had stabilized. If anything, it was the shift from buzzing energy to tranquility between the two of them.

Angela got an assist from Jonathan while making baked ziti. He was happy to hand her ingredients that she could have reached herself. When Tony got home, the boy threw himself into his embrace. "I'm sweaty, pal," he warned, patting him on the back.

"I don't care. I missed you, Dad," he said, tugging at both parents' heartstrings. When he was done seeking affection, Angela stepped in, taking his face in both hands and kissing him.

"Dinner's going to be ready in ten minutes. Why don't you go take a shower?"

"OK, honey. Smells great."

Lawrence arrived to pick up Cassie just as the rest of the family was sitting down to dinner. He seemed like a nice enough guy, remembering that Chris had turned nine earlier in the week, and that Jen was thirteen. After dinner, Tony and Angela played board games with their children, sending Jonathan to bed at ten and allowing Sam to stay up until eleven. After a buffer of about half an hour of TV, they went up to their bedroom and made love, just as they had that morning.

On the first Saturday morning of the year, Tony saw Danny working in his garage with the door open. He decided to return all of the items that they'd borrowed at once.

"Danny, here are your things," Tony announced, setting three boxes down inside the garage. "Thank you for being so generous with us."

"Bobby, hey, you're welcome. Listen, I wanted to talk to you."

Tony braced himself for a difficult conversation. "Sure."

"Could you and Jess be a little more discreet? I get it, man, she's gorgeous. Nice little rack. It's just that I have a teenaged son, and he's already got a bit of a crush on her. I can't imagine how we'd ever get him out of his room, if he'd seen what I saw."

"Sorry, Danny. We didn't realize how close all the houses are around here."

"You're still that hot and heavy after all these years?"

"We're sort of rediscovering each other, to be honest. I mean, we went all of last year like best friends and roommates," Tony said openly. "Now, we're doing the things a married couple ought to do."

"Well, Bobby, it looks like you're giving her plenty of reason to stick around. Tell me the truth, though. Did you get any on the side when she wasn't putting out?"

"I'm not proud of it, but I slept with her sorority sister while she was visiting for a reunion."

"You dog!" Danny cried, slapping Tony on the back in a congratulatory manner that really rubbed him the wrong way.

"I know, I know, but we weren't really together at the time, just living under the same roof."

"I've been there myself. Got a girl at the office who's been getting under my desk for the last two years. I finally got her out for a nooner yesterday. And ooh boy. Tight little pussy. Big round naturals."

"Danny?" Linda called from inside. "Coffee's ready, honey."

"I have to get to work. See you later," Tony said, waving to the couple without looking at them.

x

Since Tony had planned their first date, Angela planned the second. When he got home from work, she rushed him into the shower and got him dressed in a nice sweater and jeans. She was wearing her new silk halter dress and leather t-straps. They said goodbye to Mona and the kids and she grabbed the keys to the Mustang.

"So, where are we going?" he asked as they merged onto the freeway. Not into the wilderness, judging by their attire.

"There's a group of gallery openings in Scottsdale. Free wine, appetizers, and entertainment," she said, selling him on the idea.

"Sounds great!" he agreed. "I can't wait to compare our interpretations."

"It should be interesting."

"By the way, you're very sexy driving this car," he told her. She hadn't stalled or peeled out once, and she felt very much in control.

"You're just hoping I'll put out later," she said with a smirk.

"You're very sexy driving this car and I'm hoping you'll put out later," he clarified.

"I'm a sure thing," she admitted.

After finding the galleries, Tony and Angela spent ninety minutes drinking free booze and eating crackers and cubes of cheese. They found most of the art tacky and unoriginal. Derivative, she'd overheard another patron call it. They ended up arm in arm, tipsy on the sidewalk of the upscale shopping district. Strains of live flamenco guitar floated out of one of the nearby bistros.

"Tell me something I don't know about you," he requested.

"Before Michael, I got married in Vegas. The marriage was annulled the next day," she said.

"What? You? Why? How long were you dating the guy?" he asked, flabbergasted.

"We weren't even dating. He was a poet, and I was so taken by his words that I agreed to fly out for a weekend with him. We got wasted and went straight to the chapel. I think we only ever kissed at the alter. I spent one night with him, and he couldn't even get it up, he was so drunk."

"Wow, I wouldn't have expected that from you." The story was at odds with her façade of respectability, but he couldn't say she had never shown him her tempestuous side even before their relationship's sudden acceleration.

"What about you?" she asked, leading him to a wooden bench bolted into the sidewalk.

He sat down and leaned into her side. "I used to throw popcorn at movie ushers."

"Come on, something else," Angela demanded. "Something more serious."

"I hooked up with a baseball Annie and let a few of my teammates watch."

"You hooked up with a baseball player named Annie?" she asked, confused.

"A groupie. Her name was Betty, actually."

"What kind of girl was she?" Angela inquired, feeling slightly jealous.

"Busty redhead. Lots of sexual confidence. You know the type."

"Yes, I think I do. Is that your type?"

"If it was, I'd be going after your mother, age be damned. No, I'd rather have someone like you."

"What type am I?"

"Intelligent, brave, sensitive, much wilder in bed than her looks would suggest," he said, winking.

"Tell me another one."

"I used to lead a doo wop group called Tony and the Dreamtones, back in high school."

"You do have a nice singing voice," she conceded. "And you're a good dancer."

"Are you going to tell me another?" It was addictive, learning her little secrets. He knew each one would just make him crave more.

"Well, I could tell you that I started to really like having a Diablo Red Jaguar after the first week," she said sadly.

"Angela," he said, squeezing her close when words failed him.

"I know, Tony. We might get to go back home. But I feel like I have to put that possibility aside. This is the life we're living now."

"It's not so bad, is it?" he asked.

"In some ways, it's a lot better," she replied. "I'm nervous about starting work."

"I was, too, but that's because I don't really have the skills to do my job. You're completely overqualified for yours."

"It's not really my area of expertise, though. And I'm more concerned about office politics and getting along with everyone. I'm not as personable as you. It's easier when you're in charge. Everyone thinks you're a bitch anyway."

"Hey! You're very personable," he argued, gesturing with both hands. He was offended by the idea of anyone not liking the amazing woman sitting next to him. "You've made friends here already."

"One mom-friend. One neighbor-friend," she concurred.

"Oh, about the neighbors…" he started.

"Oh god. Did you talk to Danny?" she interrupted

"Yes. He saw us, like you said. But he didn't seem to mind the show. His concern is that Patrick has a big crush on you. Also, he's cheating on Linda with some girl from work."

"What? He just told you that?" she asked, wide-eyed.

"I may have implied we were separated for a while recently, and that I strayed." He absorbed her angry glare. "I used the Trish story. It's a way to establish trust."

"Apparently," she said, impressed with his innate ability to manipulate people. "You have to tell Linda."

"No way! She's perfectly happy. And there's a reason for that saying about shooting the messenger."

"True. Maybe we shouldn't say anything. It will just draw unwanted attention."

"Just like your boob," he teased, reaching out to bounce her unrestrained breast through the gathered silk and earning a smack. They reclined against the back of the bench, enjoying the pleasant night and watching the sparse foot traffic across the street.

"I'm feeling sober now. Do you want to go home?"

"With a sure thing? You bet!"