Chapter Two: Make Room for Daddy

Tuesday, November 25, 1986

Angela awoke to find Tony staring at her wide-eyed. It wasn't the admiring gaze she was used to. He seemed to be frozen in terror with the blankets pulled up to his chin and he couldn't manage to get a complete thought out. "You…. I….. We…" he stammered.

Before she could ask him what the hell was wrong with him, her stomach started retching and she ran to the bathroom to vomit. "Tony!" she called. "I need those crackers."

He appeared in a matter of seconds wearing boxers from the previous day, but kept averting his eyes. "Here, I'll leave them on the counter. Anything else I can do for you? Do you need a robe? I'll get your robe," he said nervously, backing away and looking up at the ceiling.

"For Pete's sake, Tony. You're acting like this hasn't happened every day for the past month," Angela complained. He held her old pink robe out to her while looking in the other direction and she put it on as he left the room. After brushing her teeth, she found him standing facing the closed bedroom door.

"I can't go out there like this," he said. "Your mother is in the room where all my clothes are."

"Can we talk?" she asked, lifting her comforter and sitting in bed with her legs covered.

"Uh huh," he responded, not moving.

"Tony, get your ass back in bed with me and tell me what's going on," she hissed. He complied with the first part of her request, but sat up staring forward, almost catatonic. She had to physically hold his face and turn it toward her to get him to make eye contact. "You're freaking me out, sweetheart," she said gently.

"You're freaked out? I'm freaked out. The last time I saw you naked in that bathroom, I thought I was gonna lose my job!"

"But you've seen me naked so many times since then. We had sex last night, for crying out loud. And you don't even have a job to lose."

"Bobby and Jess had sex last night. I couldn't do it, remember?"

"We are Bobby and Jess!" she yelled in frustration.

"I don't know if I can handle this," he said, turning away.

Angela threw off the covers and found a pair of slippers. "You had better figure it out fast, because I need my husband, not Captain Lobotomy." She stormed out of her bedroom and into Tony's old room. "Mother?" she called. "Mother, I have a problem."

Mona pulled off her eye mask and gave her daughter a disapproving look. She would never admit that she'd made up the story about her heat not working so she could stay close to the rest of the family. "I could have told you that much," she said.

"What?"

"Last night. You think I couldn't hear you two? 'Oh, Bobby! Oh, Jess!'" she said in a mocking tone.

Angela's cheeks turned red. "He couldn't, you know, perform, unless we used those names," she said through clenched teeth. "What am I gonna do?"

"Treat him like your housekeeper until he gets upset and remembers that he's your husband."

"You think that will work?" Angela asked.

"He barely followed your direction before. There's no way he's gonna put up with it now."

"Maybe you're right. It's worth a try, anyway." She looked through his drawers until she found him suitable clothing, then stopped by the linen closet and pulled a bath towel out before going back to her room. "Tony, take a shower and get dressed. I'm going to make a list of things I want done today," she informed him, handing over the towel and outfit.

"Yes, Angela," he responded, holding the items in front of himself and walking directly to the guest bathroom.

It was a minor relief to have him out of her way while she attended to her morning routine. She got dressed in an old casual outfit and went downstairs just in time to see her Jaguar unloaded from a flatbed tow truck into the driveway. The driver had her sign for the key, then left promptly. She sat in the driver's seat with the pen and paper she'd had in hand in the kitchen. The engine and heater ran while she composed her list. By the time she went back inside, Tony was at the kitchen table writing a list of his own. "I need to go shopping," he said. "Do you wanna come with me?"

"Yeah, that was at the top of my list, too," she said. They often shopped together in Mesa. Maybe the chore would help mentally ground him.

Tony's grocery list was a mile long, seeing as how the entire kitchen had to be restocked. They started with pantry staples, then hit the spice aisle, canned goods, produce, and dairy. In Angela's mind, Tony was acting normal, if a little distant. Just as she was handing him an eighteen-pack of eggs to balance on top of their full cart, Joanne Parker rounded the corner.

"Oh my god," she said. "Do my eyes deceive me?" She looked them both up and down.

"Hello Mrs. Parker," Tony said deferentially.

"Surprise. We're not dead after all," Angela announced with a nervous laugh and an awkward gesture that could only be described as jazz hands. "We just got back to town last night."

"Well, I'd love to hear about what you two have been doing together for the past year," she said with a suspicious glance, "but I need to finish shopping for Thanksgiving. Toodle-oo!"

"Damn it, I forgot about Thanksgiving," Tony grumbled.

"You forgot? I thought all this food was for Thanksgiving!" Angela said. The store was full of holiday décor and promotions, and it wasn't until that moment that she realized they hadn't pulled products from any of the themed endcaps. "Do you want me to get another cart?" she asked her husband. He stood stock-still and unresponsive. "Tony?" she asked, waving her hand in front of his face as he stared into the middle distance.

"Yeah?" he answered without looking at her.

"I'll see if we can get reservations somewhere for Thursday." She didn't want to stress him out with a full holiday dinner to prepare.

"OK," he agreed.

"Let's go check out."

"OK." His shellshocked manner was scaring her. She decided she had to get him home.

Angela tore into a granola bar while they waited in line. The last thing she needed right now was to pass out from low blood sugar. Tony managed to be somewhat normal in the checkout line but couldn't answer with his preference of paper or plastic. He looked at his wife and shrugged.

"Plastic," she told the clerk. When it was time to pay, he looked to her again, forcing her to pull his wallet out of his back pocket and retrieve a couple of hundred-dollar bills. He loaded the trunk and went to the driver's side, where he was intercepted. "I'm driving," Angela insisted.

"Sure, boss," Tony said, going around to the passenger's side. She fought back the urge to burst into tears and made her way home. The kids would be up by now. Once they were fed, she could have a breakdown.

"When we get home, you need to put away the groceries and make breakfast."

"No problem."

"We're all going to unpack our luggage and start some laundry. Then you're going to dust and sweep."

"Actually, Angela, I gotta vacuum up all the dust and dirt," he argued.

Finally, he's talking back, she thought, pulling into the driveway. Sam and Jonathan appeared, ready to help with the groceries in hopes of getting something to eat. She left the three of them to the task and found her mother in the living room.

"How is your other half, dear?" Mona asked.

"Still dazed and confused."

"Angela?" Tony called, pushing open the swinging door. "Which plates should I use?" he asked, holding up two patterns.

"The black ones."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, letting the door shut again.

Angela heaved a sigh. "See, Mother? He can't make a simple decision. He forgot about Thanksgiving. This morning, he refused to even look in my direction."

"Well, that last one is certainly understandable."

"Mother!"

"Angela, do you remember when I let you have an aquarium?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You were so impatient to watch your fish swim around that you let it out of its plastic bag too soon and it died."

"What's your point?"

"Tony is a delicate creature who needs time to acclimate to his new environment."

"How is this a new environment? He was fine when he first moved here two years ago. I don't remember him having any trouble adjusting to Arizona, either."

"Ah, but those were different circumstances. When he and Sam moved in, he was the same person in a different place. And when we moved to Mesa, he was a new person in a new place. Now he's a new person back in an old place."

"You're not making any sense, Mother."

Mona held back a comment about pregnancy brain. "He doesn't know how to be your husband the college student here. He only knows how to be your friend and housekeeper," she said. "Give him some time to come around."

"Alright," she relented. When she walked into the kitchen, Tony was standing at the stove making pancakes.

"Good morning, Angela. Juice and coffee?" he offered automatically, speaking to her as if they hadn't been together all morning.

"We don't have juice, Dad," Sam pointed out.

"Mom doesn't drink coffee anymore," Jonathan added. She had cut back on caffeine over the summer and quit her coffee habit completely before she even realized she was pregnant.

"I'll take a pancake, Tony," she said, sitting at the table with her children, who both looked to her for an explanation of their dad's behavior. All she could offer was a small shrug.

"Coming right up!" Tony chirped.

"Sam, Jonathan, after breakfast, we'll go up to your rooms and start sorting through your old clothes. We need to make space for all the things we brought from Arizona," Angela said.

Tony objected. "Ay-oh, I can do that."

"There's more than enough to do around here. I'd like to help the kids in their rooms," she responded.

"Alright," he relented, putting a pancake in front of her.

By four in the afternoon, the house was in much better shape. There were several boxes of clothing donations by the front door and all of the clothes brought back on the plane had been put away. Their boxes would be arriving in the next week. Tony had enlisted the children to help dust and polish furniture. They were currently wiping down windowsills and baseboards upstairs. Angela went into her office, ostensibly to compose an explanation for their friends in Arizona. Mona, who had been in her apartment most of the day, found her curled up asleep on her couch.

"Angela, I'm taking your car to the salon," she said quietly. Her own car had been put up for auction after her "death" and she wasn't sure it made sense to buy another when she was going to be effectively moving back to Phoenix in a matter of weeks.

"Tony has the keys," Angela mumbled. She had forgotten how draining it was to grow a new human.

"Thank you," Mona said, shutting the door behind her with a click.

She approached Tony, who was cleaning the inside of the front windows. "Hey, Mone. Your place nice and toasty now?"

"Sure is. Angela said I could borrow the jag. She's taking a nap in her office. You know, I haven't seen her this tired in a long time."

"Maybe I should check on her," he said, handing over the car keys.

Tony went to the den as Mona left for the salon. He opened the door quietly to avoid waking Angela and closed it behind him. When he saw her there on the couch, his heart skipped a beat. He realized why he'd been working his ass off all day. Not for a paycheck or out of pride in his abilities. It was because he loved his family and wanted them to be happy and comfortable. In a way, that had always been the motivation, only now he could express his feelings openly.

"How's my baby?" he asked when she stirred.

"Good," she responded. "Both of us are good," she said, cradling her belly.

He kneeled on the floor next to her. "Honey, I'm sorry about this morning. I don't think I understood how stressful it would be to come back here."

"Do you regret marrying me?" she asked, sitting up and patting the cushion next to her.

He accepted the invitation to join her on the couch and put his arm out for her to snuggle under. "Of course not. I love you. Besides, we're really good together, don't you think?"

"Yes, I think we are," she said, turning to kiss him. They brushed their lips together a few times before the kiss became more passionate. Five minutes later, she was straddling his lap and they were short of breath. "Tony, if we don't stop now, I'm going to be very frustrated," she panted.

He reluctantly pulled his lips off her neck and his hands out from under her sweater, watching as she stood up and paced the room. "So, did you make any progress writing that letter?" he inquired.

"No, I didn't," she admitted.

"Could I help?" he asked.

"Sure. I was thinking we could make it light and funny."

"I can do light and funny," he agreed. Together, they drafted a reintroduction of their entire family on a yellow legal pad.

"I'll type it up tomorrow and we can make copies," Angela said.

"Thank you, sweetheart. Do you feel up to helping me with dinner?"

"Sure, I feel fine now," she said, following him into the kitchen.

Sam was sprawled out on the couch, exhausted from the day of cleaning, when the doorbell rang. She peeled her body up and trudged toward the front door. "What are you selling?" she started to ask, when she recognized Michael Bower.

"Hello Samantha."

"Hello Michael," she said, staring up at him. Her chest tightened in apprehension. Although he'd never done anything against her directly, she had plenty of reasons to dislike this man.

"Are Angela and Jonathan here?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah. She's making dinner and he's doing laundry. I'll get them," she said, finally moving out of the doorway so he could enter. "Mom!" she yelled at the top of her lungs before breaking for the basement.

Angela walked out of the kitchen wearing an apron over her clothes. She was expecting to see Sam and instead found her ex-husband. "Michael," she exhaled, walking slowly in his direction.

"Hello Angela," he said, moving to meet her. Suddenly, she was in his embrace. "I'm so happy to see you," he said into her hair. She reflexively put her arms around him. "I guess things have really changed, huh?" he said, drawing back to look at her.

"They have?" she asked dumbly.

"You have brown hair and you're cooking, Sam's calling you mom, Jonathan's doing laundry," he rattled off. He looked her up and down and wrapped his arms around her once more, just as Tony entered the room. He was not happy to see his wife's ex-husband holding her so close.

"Michael," he said. "Good to see you." He went for a handshake and was caught off guard by the bear hug that came his way.

"Tony, congratulations," Michael said.

"Congratulations?" Tony asked in confusion, as he pried his rival off.

"On the baby. When are you two getting married?" Michael asked, looking between Tony and Angela.

"How did you know?" she asked. She wondered if she might still be asleep in her office. This certainly felt like a weird dream.

"You have boobs," he said nonchalantly. "And an engagement ring."

"We're already married," Tony informed him. "Since September. We still need to get bands," he said, as much to himself and his wife as to her ex.

"We haven't told anyone I'm pregnant," Angela said. "Not even the kids," she clarified in a hushed voice, just as Jonathan came into the room.

"Daddy!" Jonathan took a flying leap toward his father, who caught him and held him, pressing kisses all over his face.

"I missed you, son," Michael said.

"I missed you, too, Daddy."

"How long are you going to be around?" Angela asked with suspicion. Tony let her take the lead in the conversation.

Michael sat down on the couch with Jonathan still glued to him. "I took a desk job in the city again and found a two-bedroom apartment in Fairfield so I can reconnect with my son."

"When did all this happen?"

"A couple of weeks ago. Agent Miller tipped me off that you would be coming home."

"How does Heather feel about the move?" she asked.

"Heather and I are divorced. She didn't understand why I needed to be here with my family. Turns out she only liked the idea of being with an older man, not the reality."

"No kidding," Tony muttered.

"I'm off work for the rest of this week and I'd love to have my son stay with me for a couple of days."

"Yay!" Jonathan said, clapping his hands.

"No!" Angela cried, lunging for her son.

"Honey, can we talk?" Tony said, pulling her back toward the kitchen. He gave Michael and Jonathan an apologetic smile before pushing through the swinging door. "Angela, let the kid spend some time with his dad," he said. "They missed each other."

"How can I trust him?" she asked.

"I know you're worried he's going to try to get custody again, but I really don't see that happening. He let us have him for the last year because he knew we could take better care of him."

"But what if he changed his mind?"

"Angela, he moved to Fairfield and took a job he probably hates, just so he can have a relationship with Jonathan. Some parents wouldn't do that. Some parents can't."

"Fine," she said. "But let's get a look at the place before we leave him there."

Just then, the phone rang. Tony picked up the red handset. "Mrs. Rossini. No, actually, it's not a good time. How did you know?" He cradled the phone against his shoulder and shrugged at Angela. "Oh, I see. Well, Jonathan's dad is here, and…what? No, we don't have Thanksgiving plans. That's very generous of you, but—"

"I haven't made reservations anywhere," Angela whispered.

"Thank you. I'll let you know," Tony said before hanging up the phone. "She wants all of us, including Michael, to come to Thanksgiving dinner."

"Does she have room for all of us? And enough food?"

"Hey, in Brooklyn, they make it work! Have you ever left her place not stuffed to the gills?"

"Oh, alright, but Michael probably has his own plans. Don't be offended when he says no."

Tony pushed open the swinging door to find Jonathan excitedly telling his father about his friend Seth's skink. Angela passed through and cleared her throat. "Michael, we can bring him over around eight tonight, if that works for you. I hope you don't mind giving me a tour of your place."

"That sounds perfect, Angela. Thank you," he responded, giving Jonathan's shoulders an excited squeeze.

Tony stepped forward. "Hey, Mike, if you'd like to join us in Brooklyn for Thanksgiving dinner, you're welcome to come."

"Oh, I'd hate to impose on your family, Tony," Michael said.

"Mrs. Rossini collects family like some people collect Precious Moments figurines. She collected me and Sam, then she collected Angela and Jonathan. She even invited Mona last year, so trust me, it's not any imposition."

"In that case, I'd love to have dinner with the family, especially this one," he said, giving Jonathan another hug.

"It's so cool, Daddy. They have pigeons on the roof! Sam told me they eat little boys' fingers, but they really eat birdseed and bugs."

"Where is Sam?" Angela asked.

"She came down to the basement to tell me that Daddy was here, and I haven't seen her since," Jonathan said. Angela and Tony exchanged a look of worry.

"I'll go get her," Tony said. "Why don't you sit down and relax, Angela?"

"Sit here, Mom!" Jonathan said, patting the couch next to him. She uneasily perched on the edge of the cushion.

"I'm not gonna bite," Michael said, putting a hand on her shoulder. She sat back stiffly at first, but relaxed when Jonathan snuggled into her side. He looked incredibly happy to have both parents within reach.

The front door opened, and Mona burst through. Her hair had been colored a vibrant red and styled with curls. She carried her polaroid camera and cried out "somebody document how stunning I am!" at nobody in particular.

Jonathan volunteered, jumping up from the couch. "I'll do it, Grandma!" he shouted, getting up and grabbing the camera to snap a crooked shot from four feet off the ground.

Mona shook the print and eyed Angela and Michael sitting together. "What is this, 1975?" she sniped. She frowned at Jonathan's attempt to photograph her and took off her coat.

"Good to see you, Mom," Michael said, getting up. "You look great."

"Michael," Mona greeted him coldly. "Look, why don't you make yourself useful and get a good one from up there?" she asked, taking the camera from Jonathan and offering it to his father. She posed by the door, giving her bosom a strategic squish with her elbows tight to her sides.

"Printing a flyer for the community message boards?" he asked, handing over the print.

"Mother has a steady boyfriend in Arizona," Angela informed him.

"Oh, good for you," he told Mona. "He must be very…tolerant."

"Ricky is fun, Daddy. He took us to a baseball game and bought all the junk food we wanted."

"Well, I should get going. I want to make sure Jonathan's room is ready for him," Michael said. He handed Angela a slip of paper with his address and phone number. "Eight o'clock?" he confirmed.

"We'll see you then," Angela said, seeing him to the door.

"Bye, Daddy! I'll see you later," Jonathan said.

Tony opened the door to the basement and saw Sam sitting cross-legged on top of the dryer with clean towels piled over her lap and around her shoulders. "Why are you down here in the cold?" he asked from the stairs.

"I wanted to wait until Michael left," she said.

"Samantha, he's Jonathan's father. You're going to have to get used to him," he argued, stepping toward the laundry area.

"Why? He's never around for long. He just pops in out of nowhere, gets Jonathan's hopes up, and leaves."

"Well, I think he's trying to turn over a new leaf. He got a place in town. Jonathan's going to stay with him for a couple of days, and then we're all going to Thanksgiving at Mrs. Rossini's."

"What?" she asked in shock.

Tony started picking towels off her, folding them and stacking them on the washer. "I was thinking maybe we could go visit your mom and Grandpa Nick while we're in the neighborhood." He finished the task and reached out to touch his daughter's upper arms in a tentative invitation. "Would you like that?"

Sam nodded and accepted her father's embrace, enjoying the warmth of his body for a second, now that her makeshift blankets were gone. "Can we go upstairs now?" she chattered.

After dinner, Angela and Tony took Jonathan to Michael's apartment and did a cursory inspection, making sure he had a working smoke detector, fire extinguisher, first aid kit, and plenty of food in the fridge. They talked through the logistics of Thanksgiving Day and agreed to leave Jonathan at his father's place until then.

"So, you never told me how Mrs. Rossini knew we were back," Angela said, as Tony drove her jag home.

"Apparently, someone spotted us at JFK and word got back to her," he said.

"Who? I didn't see anyone I recognized."

"This girl I used to know, Frankie Candino."