A/N: Updates may be spotty, as I'm working on some voter outreach for the next couple of weeks. Check your registration, fellow Americans!

Chapter Nineteen: Thrift

Angela made French toast on Thursday morning, dipping a slice of bread as she listened to her mother answer Sam's questions about the New Year's Eve party. Apparently, they had been drinking and dancing until sunrise. Then there were some mercifully-redacted private moments. And it was mid-morning when they finally went to sleep. They decided to stay for the latest-possible late checkout before having dinner and going home. This home, as it happens.

Ricky had left early, before the kids were up. It was a relief, after he and Cassie caught Bobby and Jess fooling around in the hot tub. Angela knew she would have to face her neighbor Danny, too. She tried to tell herself that the man had likely seen many women topless before. Maybe it wouldn't be a big deal. She was much more ashamed of the way she'd been caught in a moment of near-orgasmic hedonism. And did Linda already know what he'd seen from their second-story window? Would he tell her? Angela wasn't sure whether it would be worse for him to keep it to himself or share with his wife.

Tony and Jonathan came in from their morning soccer scrimmage. "Need any help, honey?" he asked, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

"You could get me a warm-up," she said, jerking her head toward her coffee. There was a room-temperature ounce or two left in the mug. He filled it from the carafe and added creamer from the fridge. "Thanks, baby. Here's a slice," she said, offering him a plate, which he immediately put down in front of Jonathan. The family continued to rotate through the eating area until it was just Angela and Tony.

"What time are you going shopping?" he asked.

"Sheila is picking me up at ten. Mom's staying home with the kids."

"You'll be leaving before me today. Think she'll do any chores?"

"No, but Jen promised she would catch up on what she refused to do yesterday."

"Good. Will you have time to go to the MVD today?"

"I should. Mom is going to go tomorrow. I'd hate to drag the kids into some soul-sucking government bureau. I'm sure at some point they'll visit me at work and see it firsthand," she said with a wry smile. "Thank you for telling me about your thrilling day of physical inventory."

Angela had laid her head on Tony's chest and intertwined her fingers with his while he described his long first day in the distribution center. She was slightly annoyed to hear that he had spent five dollars on lunch, an amount she would have found laughably small a month prior, but the man had to eat something. She was also concerned about the women he mentioned, Fiona and Sally. Had he inadvertently flirted with them? She couldn't quite trust his fidelity to this coerced and unexpected marriage. His declaration of love seemed genuine, but she was unsure if he was really in love with her or just loved her as a friend with whom he shared an intense attraction. He hadn't said it again, and she hadn't said it back. They were dancing around it all the time, just like they were dancing around actually having sex. One day soon, they would twirl past the point of no return.

"I look forward to hearing about your soul-sucking administration job, too."

She went upstairs to get ready while he cleaned up the kitchen. "Hey Cassie," let me show you how to run the dishwasher," he said, in an unsubtle bid for more household assistance.

"Alright, alright," Mona grumbled, allowing Tony to demonstrate.

After the wash cycle started, he used the cover of rushing water to ask, "We didn't scare Ricky off, did we?"

"Ha! If anything you inspired him," she said with a wink. "So, what happened later on?" she asked, nudging him with her shoulder.

"We took a shower and went to sleep."

"One singular shower?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, but no more funny business," Tony said seriously.

"How long are you going to hold out on her, ya tease?"

"I don't think she's ready. Emotionally, I mean. I don't want us to get out too far over our skis here."

"Why are you so worried?" Mona asked.

"Because I love her and I don't want to screw this up."

"Did you tell her that?"

"The first part slipped out on New Year's Eve, and she hasn't said it back. I'm pretty sure I scared her off."

"What did she say?"

"She said she feels the same way. What do you think that means? I can't figure it out."

"I think it means she loves you, dummy." Mona couldn't believe how difficult they were making this.

Tony walked away shaking his head and found Sam, getting in a chat before her mood swung again.

The doorbell rang and Mona let Sheila in. "Nice to see you again, Cassie," she said. "Is Jess ready?"

"I'll be down in a minute!" Angela yelled from upstairs.

"Where's Seth?" Jonathan asked.

"Sorry, Chris. He's staying with my parents in Flagstaff."

Angela flew down the stairs "I'm ready. I only have twenty-two dollars, though. Do you think that's enough to get anything?"

"Definitely. I can't believe you've never shopped second-hand before."

"Well, I've been antiquing…" Angela noticed her mother shaking her head disapprovingly. It was too New England. "Garage sales, mostly." That seemed more midwestern.

"Well, I'll show you all the tricks to getting a good deal at the thrift store."

The two women got into Sheila's Ford Escort. It was unlike any car she'd been in before. Her friends and dates back East tended to drive either luxury or sports cars. This sedan seemed flimsy and lightweight. It made her appreciate the overly solid station wagon she'd been driving.

They pulled into a parking lot and walked into an unfinished warehouse with long racks of clothing and a shelving perimeter full of mismatched items. There were fluorescent lights hanging from the high ceiling and uneven, discolored concrete floors. It smelled of mildew and something else. Urine? Over the years, she had donated to charity many times, often fretting that nobody would want a faded sweater or a five-year-old dress. "This is good stuff, Angela. People are gonna be fightin' over it," Tony had told her. Now she understood. She'd be lucky to find one of her old castoffs in this mess.

"First thing you wanna do is check the discounted tag colors. They rotate colors over time. So if something has a green tag, it's seventy percent off the marked price. If it's a yellow tag, it's half off. You any good at math?"

"Yes, I can figure out the sale price in my head," she answered confidently. She had shopped many sales. It was the same concept, just a different scale. Instead of forty percent off a hundred-and-fifty dollar blouse, she'd be figuring seventy percent off a four dollar pair of pants.

"So, the clothes are separated by category. Men's over there, women's here, children's there," she said pointing around the room. They're usually just pants, tops, dresses, and coats, but some places break it down to where the jeans and trousers are on different racks."

"Got it." It was so different from a curated boutique or a department store with round racks of the same item in every size and color. "Are there fitting rooms?"

"Over there," Sheila said, pointing to a row of booths with curtains drawn to one side. "I'll guard, and then you can model for me."

They spent the next two hours finding seven items within Jess' budget: a silk halter dress, a longer, work-appropriate belted dress, a blazer, a cardigan, two pairs of dress pants, and a pair of t-strap heels. Sheila swore that the smell would come out with a wash in white vinegar. She also thought the dry-clean-only items would be fine if hand-washed in the bathtub. Angela would ask Tony about this later, but the risk was low. One trip to the cleaners usually cost more than this shopping excursion had.

Sheila dropped off Angela at home with her haul. Mona and Sam rolled their eyes as she recounted her adventure, Mona because it sounded terrible and Sam because it was nothing new. Mona managed to persuade Angela to make lunch, since she was home and all. After the four of them ate, Angela was off to the MVD for a new license. She finally got to drive the Mustang, and her mother was right. She stalled out at two stop signs and peeled away from a third. She would have to practice before commuting in the car.

The driver's license application process wasn't too difficult. She managed to pass the vision exam without her glasses, just barely, and she was allowed to keep her Ohio license even though it didn't seem like that was the correct protocol. She was issued a printout verifying that she was an Arizona licensed driver. Tony had been smart enough to set aside the exact amount needed to pay the fee. She was coming around to the idea that he was better at controlling cash flow, even if she held the upper hand when it came to wealth management.

They needed to talk about money. When she got home, she sat in the quiet front parlor drafting options for dealing with Bobby and Jess' disparate paychecks. This was something she'd never done with Michael. They'd simply opened a joint account and funneled everything through it. Eventually, he came to resent her contribution, despite benefitting from it. Angela was beginning to see the Morettis' marriage as a proxy for fixing everything that had gone wrong in her own real marriage.

She set the proposal aside and went into the kitchen to start dinner. This time, she expected Tony home around 9pm, and he came through, sitting down to a dinner plate kept warm in the oven. She sat with him as he ate. Instead of talking about money, she asked about his day and then showed off her purchases, asking his opinion about how best to launder each item. After he kissed their son good night, they ended up in the laundry room, furiously making out just like on their first day in the house.

"Still turned on by my adorable incompetence?" she taunted from her seat on the washing machine. They were in such a different place than twelve days earlier, but she was still insecure and in need of validation.

"No, I'm turned on by everything about you," he said, giving her shoulder a love bite. Then he pulled back and told her sincerely, "I'm so impressed with the way you've adjusted to everything. I mean, the way you've been taking care of this family is incredible. You've always been brilliant, you know, but you're also such an amazing mother to our children," he rambled. "I can't understand why it took me so long to realize I love you."

"We weren't in a place where we could act on it until now," she reminded him. "You really are in love with me, aren't you?" she asked. "Me, not her," she clarified.

"The only thing I love about her is that she's you," he said.

"I'm in love with you, too," she whispered, hopping off the washer and pushing him against the closed laundry room door.

"What are you doing?" he asked as she unzipped his pants.

"Showing you how I feel," she answered, dropping to her knees. She had a way of touching him that was so adoring and tender. It was almost worshipful. He had never felt this loved and accepted before. Tears fell from his eyes when he was done, and they spent several minutes just holding each other before he got himself together enough to lay her down on their bed and show her how he felt.

A/N: See M-rated story "Bobby and Jess Take Things Further" "Chapter Three: Laundry Room" for the rest of the evening or feel free to skip it. No important plot details will reside in the M-rated chapters of this story. Chapter Three is quite explicit.