A/N: What would you do if you thought you saw someone who was supposed to be dead?

Chapter Fifty-Four: The Archives

Shirley pushed aside all the work that had piled up while she was at the conference in Phoenix and called the Fairfield Public Library on Monday morning. "Do you archive local newspapers?"

"We do. You may view the physical copies from the past year here in our reading room, but you can't check them out. The older issues are on microfilm, and a librarian can help set you up on the reader."

"Oh, good. I'll have to come in," Shirley said, opening her agenda to the following weekend.

"What are you researching?" the chatty librarian asked.

"A resident who passed away last year, Angela Bower."

"Aww, that was such a tragedy for our community. I still can't believe what happened to that sweet family."

Shirley sat up straight in her chair. "You knew them?"

"Tony and the kids mostly, but Angela started coming with them on Saturdays last summer."

"Tony Micelli?"

"Yes, of course. Listen, I have another call coming in. Is there anything else you need?"

"No, thank you." Shirley's pulse raced as she put down the receiver and began to replay the conversation in her mind. Angela Bower and Tony Micelli knew each other well enough to take their kids to the library together. The librarian had called them a sweet family and basically confirmed that Tony and his daughter were part of the tragedy. She made a plan to drive out to Connecticut on Saturday.

x

Jess turned thirty-six on Tuesday. Her administrative assistant brought in cupcakes, but there wasn't any fanfare at home. The wedding had been more than enough for a while. Tony had class, Sam had basketball practice, and Jonathan had a clarinet lesson. Mona was barely functional, giving the kids rides, but not much else. The rest of the week went by in a blur of work and school, activities and chores. Even Mona managed to make it through her evening shifts, though her Friday happy hour tips were as low as her mood.

Sam begged to go to a high school party with Natalie, and was granted an eleven o'clock curfew, assuming the host's parents were home to supervise. The older girl came home with a hickey, despite being grounded for the same offense for the last two weeks of summer. Sam made it to her door at eleven sharp, finding Angela on the other side pacing with worry. The teen was surprised that her protective Italian father hadn't waited up, too.

"Dad fell asleep in his biology textbook. I made him go to bed so he can finish cramming for his exam in the morning. How was the party?" Angela led her daughter to the couch and invited her to sit in the light of the muted TV.

With her father safely unconscious, Sam admitted to kissing three boys during spin the bottle and playing seven minutes in heaven, although she and the boy only talked in the closet. She was still full of energy from the party and alert from the chilly seventy-degree walk home. For a minute, it felt like the old days, when Angela was more like a friend than a mother. Then she came to her senses. "Am I in trouble?" she asked.

"You're not in trouble for kissing boys," Angela told her. "And since you were honest with me, we're not going to share that piece of information with your father."

"I'm not in trouble? Have I told you how much I love you, Mom?" She started to get up, until a hand circled her forearm and forced her to sit.

"Uh uh uh. You are grounded for a week for staying at the party after you realized it was unsupervised." It was a milder punishment than Tony would have given. In fact, the trade off seemed favorable to Sam.

"I understand. I'm sorry for being a disappointment," she said, hanging her head.

"That's not going to work on me, and I wouldn't try it on Dad either. I'm well aware that I'm letting you off easy. Now get some sleep. I love you."

"Love you, too," Sam said, trailing her hand along the banister as she climbed the stairs.

On Saturday, while Tony was in class taking his test, Angela knocked on Sam's door. "Come in!" she called, getting up and opening the door. Angela had a banana in her hand. "Thanks, but I'm not hungry." The family had just eaten breakfast. Sam returned to her cozy reading spot on her bed with her back against the wall.

Angela closed the door behind her and sat down on Sam's bed, pulling her legs up and crossing them. She was nervous but determined. "I need to make sure you know how to keep yourself safe," she said, pulling a wrapped condom out of her breast pocket.

"Whoa, Mom! I just gave those guys a little peck on the lips. I'm not gonna have sex!"

"Not anytime soon, I hope, but when the time comes, I want you to be prepared. In a few years, you might want to go on birth control, and that's another conversation we should have, but you should always use condoms to protect yourself from disease." She opened the package and helped Sam roll the condom onto the banana. Once the demonstration got started, Angela felt calm and confident.

Sam was amused. "You don't really do this while you're in bed with a guy, do you? It seems like it would spoil the mood." Little did she know that spoiling the mood was the best outcome in most cases. It would give her a moment to consider whether she really wanted to go through with it.

"Yeah, you really do! It only takes a few seconds, once you know how, and honestly, the guy usually takes care of it. But what if you're with someone who doesn't know what they're doing? Condoms break, sometimes even if you're very careful."

"That's scary. So you can catch something or get pregnant anytime you have sex?"

"Yes, and that's why it's important to wait until you're old enough to deal with the consequences." She pulled three more individual packages out of her pocket. "I trust you to use your best judgment with these, and if you need more, let me know."

"No questions asked?"

"Oh, there will be questions, but you won't be in trouble. I love you and I want you and your friends to be safe and healthy."

"OK. Thanks, Mom." Sam threw her arms around Angela and squeezed her tight. "Can I ask you a question?" she inquired with her cheek snug against a bony shoulder.

"Sure, honey." Angela kissed the top of Sam's head.

"Are you and Dad still trying to have a baby?" Once she had said it, Sam was able to look her stepmom in the eye. "I know how much you wanted one."

"We're not trying and were not preventing it from happening, if that makes sense. We're very happy with you and your brother, so another baby would just be the icing on the cake."

"So it's possible? That's all I wanted to know."

"How do you feel about that? It's not easy having a baby around. You'd definitely end up listening to a lot of crying and changing a few diapers."

"It would probably keep me from wanting one of my own for a very long time, but you go ahead." Sam smacked Angela on the arm for emphasis.

"I know you're grounded, but if you can persuade your grandma to go to the pool, I'll grant a few hours of reprieve."

"Awesome!" Sam shouted, running down the hall to the stairs. "Grandma Cassie!"

An hour later, Jonathan was following his mother around playing scales on the clarinet. She politely requested that he try a song instead. The squeaks gave her a throbbing headache, but by the time Tony returned, the blowing and clacking had turned to music. "Sounds great, Chris!" he called. "Can you go put that away?" As usual, his request was instantly heeded.

When Jonathan ran upstairs, Angela walked straight into her husband's solid chest with her arms at her sides. He instinctively began to massage her temples, then moved on to the base of her skull. "You've had a worse day than me, haven't you?" he asked. She wrapped her arms around him and looked up. He had several inches on her in the gym shoes he'd worn to class.

"I'm not sure. How did your exam go?"

He moved on to her neck and shoulders. "I feel good about it. Thank you for letting me sleep last night."

"I'm glad you were able to, with our daughter out at a party. By the way, she's grounded for a week. There were no parents at that house, and she stayed anyway. Got home before curfew, though. I'll give her that."

Tony pulled back and held Angela at arm's length. "Ay-oh, oh-ay, I woulda given her a month! Where is she? In her room?"

"You can't give her a month for every little infraction. She's at the pool with Mom."

Tony looked at his wife like she was crazy. "I don't think you know how being grounded works."

"Think of it as community service with her elders," Angela pleaded.

"Madonna mia," he muttered, shaking his head.

"You're awfully Italian today," she observed.

"It's this public speaking class. The better I talk in class, the more Brooklyn comes outta my mouth outside."

"It's kind of hot," she told him, biting her lip.

"You're into that, huh?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, ever since this cute guy came to my house to do some work. He had the tightest buns, and he'd wear these t-shirts that showed off his muscles. I had a huge crush on him." Angela winked

"So you'd rather hook up with that meathead than a college man?"

"I'm greedy. I want both. At the same time," she said, grabbing his butt in both hands.

He pressed her against the counter and put a knee between her legs. "I have to have you. Can we go upstairs?" The question was punctuated by a nibble on her earlobe.

"Let's just make sure our son is alright first." They ran up the stairs and stopped by Jonathan's room. "Hey, Chris. How's Ronald Reagan doing?" Angela asked. Tony stood directly behind her, hiding his arousal from Jonathan, but making her fully aware of it. Her cheeks turned bright red.

"He's good. Can I play on the computer?"

"Yes!" both replied, eager for something to keep him distracted.

"We're such good parents when our kids ain't around," Tony said, amping up his accent.

"Jesus. Take me now."

x

Shirley was able to find an obituary for Tony Micelli in the Fairfield Gazette. "Former St. Louis Cardinal player Tony Micelli, thirty-three, and his thirteen-year-old daughter Samantha were killed when his van plunged off an embankment outside Fairfield, CT on Saturday, December 7, 1985. Mr. Micelli's employer and her family also died in the accident. Micelli, the child of immigrants, had no known survivors, as his wife preceded him in death due to illness. A service will be held in Brooklyn. Contact Rossini's Fish Market for more information."

There was also a notice in the events section. "Memorial to be held at Fairfield Country Club, Thursday, December 12, two o'clock in the afternoon, honoring Mona Robinson, Angela Bower, and Jonathan Bower. Open to the public. No host bar."

Shirley copied the newspaper columns and looked around the room, trying to decide what to do next. There was a whole section full of school yearbooks, and she started looking through a binder full of recent elementary school class photos, easily finding Jonathan in the kindergarten, first, and second grade composites. Samantha turned up in the sixth grade picture. On a whim, Shirley opened the junior high yearbook and flipped through. There was a picture of four girls, including Samantha, dressed in trendy clothing in front of a red Jaguar. Angela had been thinking about buying a Jag, but she never would have gotten a red one. Beige or navy blue was more her style.

Stuck again, Shirley left the library, copies in hand. It wasn't until she looked at the photo again that night that she saw Jonathan standing deep in the background. There was also a pair of adults playing basketball, but she couldn't see their faces. A slim blonde woman seemed to be unsuccessfully guarding a dark-haired man. Her arm blocked his face from the camera lens as he took a shot.

That was it. She didn't have any idea how to prove it, but Angela Bower and Tony Micelli had run off to Arizona with their families, changed their names, and planted the story of their death to ensure nobody found them. What she didn't understand is why they would do such a thing.

x

"I can't believe he would just leave and not call me."

"Didn't you tell him to go?" Sam held the edge of the pool as she stood in the shallows.

"Sure, but it's pretty rotten of him to actually go and do it." Mona lounged under an umbrella. It was quiet at the community pool. A couple of pre-teens were diving under the surface for weighted rings in the deep end, as an older teenager watched from the side.

"You hurt him, Cassie. He's probably moping around just like you've been doing."

"I know," Mona said, her voice turning husky. "Getting rejected only wounds my ego when I can manage to keep from getting attached. With Ricky, I started caring too much, and now that it's over, I think constantly about how much pain I've put him through."

"You love him."

"I do, damn it."

"Isn't that the way it's supposed to be, when you're going out with someone?"

Mona sighed heavily. "When you're young, it's easy to fall in love and form your life around another person. After you've been with someone a long time, you're not as flexible anymore. It's hard to find anyone compatible. And when nobody fits the way you're used to, you get comfortable being alone."

"Dad went through that," Sam said in a low voice. "Look at him now."

"It's like he found his perfect pair of jeans on the rejected rack in the dressing room," Mona joked.

Sam chuckled and pointed a finger. "There she is! It's nice to hear you insulting your daughter again."

"She's so happy. It's disgusting."

"So were you," Sam pointed out.

"Yeah. I should have known better."

x

Tony was cleaning the floors downstairs, singing and dancing with his mop as he went, when Mona and Sam walked in. "There you are, young lady!" he said in a stern tone.

"Gee, Dad. I was just at the pool with my friend," Mona mocked.

"Not you! This one," he said, pulling Sam by the arm. "You're grounded."

"For going to the pool?" Mona objected.

"For going to a party with no adult supervision," Tony explained.

"Mom already lectured me," Sam said. "She even gave me the sex talk."

"Sex talk?" Tony whimpered. "What was going on at this party?"

"Nothing. Natalie got a hickey is all," Sam said, trying to deflect.

"And w- w- w- what did Mom tell you?" Tony stuttered. Mona observed the exchange with glee.

"She said that I should wait until I'm old enough to deal with the consequences because there's always a risk of getting pregnant or catching a disease, even when you're being careful and using condoms."

"Oh. I see. Well, she's right about that." Tony's blood pressure began to return to normal. "Go upstairs and change. Then fold the towels in the dryer. After that, you can put them away and clean your bathroom."

"OK, Dad." Sam gave her father a kiss on the cheek and went upstairs.

"That girl has a really good head on her shoulders," Mona assured Tony, as she left for her suite.

"Where's Mom?" Jonathan called out to Tony.

"Mom's taking a nap, pal." Tony caught a look from his mother-in-law and shrugged. The woman knew exactly what they had been up to while she was out.

"Come with me, Chris. I think Libby might want a treat."

"Oh boy. Can we make her do a trick?"

"You can make her shake hands." The pug was well behaved but lacked the intelligence for more advanced obedience training.

Tony finished the floor and put away the mop and bucket. He found Angela dressed and re-making their bed. "Hi honey," she said, smoothing the duvet. Her movements were elegant and graceful, her words smooth and slow. He hated to disrupt her sated mood.

"Did you talk to Sam about sex?" he asked, closing the door behind him.

"I did," she said without defense. "She's in eighth grade and has older friends who are starting to get curious." She tensed up as he quickly crossed the room toward her.

"Thank you," he said, pulling her into a hug. It took a moment for her to react, and then she wrapped her arms around him and held him tight.