Chapter Seven: Walk Away

Friday, December 5, 1986

"Mean western omelet, Mom!" Sam said, putting down her fork.

"Thank you, honey. Dad taught me Pete Rose's recipe," Angela said. She ruffled Jonathan's hair and sat down at the kitchen table. "How do you like it?" she asked him.

The boy took a long sip of orange juice before answering. "It's OK, for eggs. Can I go to Daddy's place this weekend?" he asked. Michael had Crunchy Crawlers and Pop Tarts hidden in his pantry, although he had made his son hot and healthy breakfasts on the three mornings they spent together far. Jonathan knew the man's patience for cooking wouldn't hold out.

"Your father might have other plans, darling. Besides, we're going to decorate the tree tomorrow," Angela reminded him.

"Where is the tree, anyway?" Sam asked. "Wasn't it supposed to be here yesterday?"

"I'm not sure what happened. I'll have to call the place and ask."

Tony burst in through the door in his sweats. "The snow isn't sticking," he announced. "You'll have to go to school today," he told the kids, kissing each of them on the crown of the head.

"Aww, man!" Sam said.

"That's alright. We're making snow globes in art today," Jonathan said.

"Must be nice to be a little kid. All I have to look forward to today is a history quiz," Sam retorted. Then she smiled and got a dreamy look in her eye. "And going to the movies with Todd Phillips," she added.

"Ay-oh, don't get distracted by that boy," Tony warned her, wagging his finger.

"There's coffee, honey," Angela said proudly. Her morning sickness had diminished to the point where she was able to handle the smell of fresh grounds.

"Oh yeah? That's great!" he replied, pumping his fist. The kids looked at each other and shook their heads, unsure what the big deal was.

"I can make you an omelet, Tony. I saved a bowl of the filling in the fridge."

"I got it, baby," he said, setting his coffee cup down on the counter. He leaned over to kiss her cheek on the way to the refrigerator. "Love you," he whispered.

Sam rolled her eyes. "We gotta get to school, twerp," she told Jonathan.

"Bye kids!" Tony called, as the two scurried away from the table to get their backpacks. "So you're still feeling good?" he asked his wife once they were alone. He turned on the burner under the still-warm frying pan.

"I am! It was this way with Jonathan, too. Sick and tired all through my first trimester and then boom, fine for the next three months. Let's hope the past week hasn't been a fluke."

"That's fantastic, sweetheart." He was grateful for the return of morning kisses with his beloved. It sure beat listening to her puke.

The phone rang and Angela got up to answer it. "Hello? Oh, good morning, Jack. What do you have for me?"

Tony watched furtively and sipped his coffee while he cooked his breakfast. He heard her repeat "administrative assistant" and furrowed his brow. Then he heard "account executive" and looked over to see her giving him a thumbs up. He plated his omelet and took it to the table along with his coffee. "So?" he asked when the phone was back on the hook.

"Jack said he could get me an interview for administrative assistant at Ogilvy, but I asked him not to pursue it. He's going to submit me for an account executive position at J. Walter Thompson."

"That's better than head copywriter?" he asked.

"It's more managerial than creative. I'd have exposure to more functions and direct access to clients."

"Ooh, you're good at telling people what to do," he said with a grin.

"Thanks," she said flatly. "I should know by the end of the day if they want to meet me."

"Who wouldn't want to meet you?" he asked rhetorically. "I'm gonna go shower, and then we can swing by campus to drop off my application before your doctor's appointment."

"OK, I'm pretty much ready to go, so I'll clean up in here and call the Christmas tree lot to find out what happened to our order. By the way, Jonathan asked if he could go to his father's place this weekend."

"I hope you told him no," he said. "We have plans as a family, and his grandmother is skipping town in a few days."

"I didn't say yes, but maybe we should figure out a schedule. What do you think about every other weekend?"

"It's OK with me. Hey, I don't really get a say, though, do I? You should give Michael a call this evening and see what he wants to do."

"You're right. Go on and get ready. We should leave in half an hour."

Mona stumbled in through the back door, missing Tony by a few seconds. "Coffee," she requested.

"Serve yourself," Angela said. "You missed my western omelets."

"All I want is toast," Mona said, pouring herself a mug.

"What did you do last night?" Angela asked.

"Ricky and I shared a bottle of wine. Except that he's not here, so I drank the whole bottle myself. I didn't realize he was really only having a couple of glasses until after I passed out and he had to yell at me to wake up."

"Mother, haven't you learned your lesson about drinking too much?"

"No, and I don't intend to. Learning lessons is for chumps," she said, getting a loaf of bread out and taking it over to the toaster. "You seem to be feeling quite a bit better lately. Twelve weeks, right?" she asked.

"Tony blabbed. I'm gonna kill him!"

"He confirmed my suspicions is all. Remember, I was with you when you found out you were pregnant with Jonathan."

"When you forced me to take a pregnancy test, you mean."

"Well, you had practically moved back in with me, and I was tired of you hogging the bathroom with your daily retch sessions. I had to do something to remind you that you were an adult with your own life, ready to start your own family." The toaster popped and Mona got a plate out of the cabinet.

"I didn't want to be alone, Mother. Michael was on a five-month assignment in Kenya."

"You're not alone this time," Mona said, sitting down and buttering a slice. She picked it apart and put little pieces in her mouth, taking care not to damage her long nails. "You've got your own male mother hen now."

"Tony forced me to take a pregnancy test, too," Angela confided. "The day after I took the kids to the doctor."

"Good for him. I'll rest easy knowing that this baby's father isn't a deadbeat."

"Speaking of that deadbeat…."

"What'd Michael do this time?"

"He took Jonathan to Vermont without asking me. What if they had gotten stuck or skidded off the road? I would have had no idea where to begin looking."

"So, tell him he needs to talk to you first next time, or he won't be able to keep seeing Jonathan."

"I don't know if threats and ultimatums are warranted. We had a good talk on Thanksgiving, and I really think he's trying to be a better dad."

"Yeah? And you believe that?" Mona deadpanned over her coffee.

"He's usually honest when he's been drinking."

"So, talk to him like you talk to Tony."

"What?!" Angela yelped. Her cheeks instantly turned crimson, and she thought she might hyperventilate.

"Not your lovey-dovey talk, silly. The way you two are open and honest and respectful of each other, like partners. Maybe Michael is ready to co-parent with you."

"What does that mean?"

"It's something I learned about in my Family Systems class. When you and Michael split up, you began parallel parenting as a way to reduce conflict. Each of you made your own decisions about Jonathan. In practice, that meant you raised him on your own until Tony came along. Now, you have a chance to give Jonathan a more stable environment by cooperating with Michael."

"Oh, I see," Angela said, contemplating her mother's words.

"Sam's old enough to be helpful, but it could be a relief for Jonathan to have another parent around when you and Tony are knee deep in dirty diapers."

"You're right, Mother."

"As usual," Mona said smugly.

"Alright, mama, there's baby's heartbeat," Dr. Lenox said. A rapid whooshing sound filled the small room, and Angela held her hand over her mouth, staving off tears of joy.

"It's so fast!" Tony marveled, holding his wife's other hand.

"That's completely normal," the doctor said. "In fact, everything looks good, other than borderline anemia. You can get over the counter iron supplements, and I'll plan on seeing you again at sixteen weeks." He stood with his chart and tucked his pen into the pocket of his white coat.

"So, in a month?" Tony asked, standing up to mirror him.

"Give or take. You'll schedule with the receptionist when you check out."

Angela found her composure for a second. "Thank you, Dr. Lennox," she said. The man nodded and patted her on the shoulder in a paternal fashion.

"Thanks, doc."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Micelli," the doctor said, shaking Tony's hand. "Congratulations to both of you," he said, exiting the room and closing the door.

"Are you ready to tell everyone now?" Tony asked Angela. She was silent for a long moment, processing everything that the doctor had told them while she got dressed. "Angela? Aren't you happy?" he asked.

"I'm overjoyed," she responded grimly. "I guess we can tell people. I mean, my mother already knows. Michael knows. I'm pretty sure Sam's figured it out."

"Ooh! I can't wait," Tony said gleefully. He checked in again when Angela's doleful expression didn't budge. "Are you worried about telling Jonathan?"

"I'm worried about him being bullied by the other kids. I'm worried about what they're going to find at the anatomy scan in February. I'm worried about going back to work and being put on the mommy track."

"Sweetheart, it's not going to do you any good to dwell on all the things that could go wrong. Do you see me worrying about whether my application to Ridgemont will be accepted?"

"I'm worried about that, too!" Angela said, walking straight into her husband's chest.

Tony folded her into his embrace. "We're going to take each moment as it comes, baby. You and me, together, ok?"

"OK," she mumbled into his chest. "I'm sorry I'm emotional."

"Hey, it's been a crazy year and you're under a lot of stress. What would make you feel better? We have the whole afternoon free."

"Could we go look at that car you liked? And could we try to find another tree lot, since the first place oversold their inventory?"

"Of course we can," he promised, giving her a kiss and rubbing her back as he released her.

"If we have to tie the tree to the roof of the jag, I guess it's alright. There's a guy who owes me a paint job," she said, finally cracking a smile.

"Sandalwood," he said, opening the door for her. "Because she doesn't need Diablo Red wheels to be one hot mama," he flirted.

"Oh, Tony. Maybe you should be applying for the copywriter jobs," she flattered him.

"Since it's a dealer demo, we can work with you. How about we knock a grand off the sticker price?"

"No way, Chaz," Angela said firmly. "It has over four thousand miles on it and a ton of options we aren't even interested in."

"Could we have a moment?" Tony asked.

"Sure," Chaz replied. "I'll get a cup of coffee. Would either of you like one?"

"No thank you," Angela said, crossing her arms.

"Nah," Tony said, waiving him off. When the salesman was out of earshot, he whispered, "What are you talking about? I'm interested!"

"It has to look like we're willing to walk away," she said.

"Maybe if we tell him we're expecting, he'll give us a better price," he said.

"No, we can't expose our vulnerability like that. Remember, there are a dozen other dealerships with this model and probably a few with this trim line."

"Fine," he huffed. Angela stood up and put her purse over her shoulder. Tony was confused, but stood up to follow, causing Chaz to trot over with his coffee cup.

"Where are you going?" he called.

"We're going to walk over to the tree lot next door," she bluffed.

"You still need a Christmas tree? We'll throw one in. Anything you want. Even a nine-foot blue spruce."

"Three thousand dollars off MSRP," Angela said.

"Two thousand off, I might be able to get past my finance manager, but I can't say for sure," Chaz said.

"Two thousand off, free extended warranty, and throw in the tree," she countered. "Final offer."

"I'll be back," the salesman said.

"Final offer?" Tony whined. "But I look so good in black."

"Trust me," Angela said under her breath.

After three minutes, Tony was sweating bullets. "I don't think he's gonna let me have it," he told his wife. He started feeling resentful that Angela had made him come back and waved his dream car under his nose again.

Chaz hustled back with his supervisor. "You've got yourself a deal, folks. If you'd like to follow me into the finance office, we can get started on the paperwork."

"See?" Angela quietly gloated to her husband. She was able to request a wire from her money market account to cover the Jeep outright, and they went looking for a tree while the vehicle was prepared.

"Blue spruce is too sharp," Tony said, handing Angela a cup of hot apple cider. He could do without being jabbed by needles every time he put an ornament on the tree. And if he was too much of a wuss for the species, he could only imagine the complaints of the other family members.

"I like this balsam fir, honey," she said, blowing across the steaming surface of the liquid. The scent of cinnamon wafted off it.

"Oh, that's a great tree. We could really dress it to the nines," he said. The fir was moderately dense and symmetrical, perfect for their home. A worker wrapped it in mesh and put in the back of the Jeep, which was pulled around to the side of the lot. When the back row and passenger seats were folded down, the hatch almost closed. The tree seller and auto dealer worked together to tie everything down securely while Angela slipped away to drive home in her jag.

Mona saw Angela drive up to the house alone and accosted her. "What happened to Tony?" she demanded.

"He'll be home soon. In his brand-new car," she said, suppressing a smile.

"Oh yeah?" Mona asked, following her daughter into the house. "You look happy. That must mean you got good news from the doctor."

"Everything looks fine. I just need to take iron supplements. No offense, but it was pretty great hearing my baby's heartbeat for the first time with my husband instead of my mother."

"No offense taken. Do you think I wanted to go to those appointments with you?"

"No, Mother, you made it very clear that you didn't." Angela heard the timer ding and watched her mother open the oven door. "What's that?" she asked casually.

"Apple spice muffins," Mona responded. "You'll have to wait for them to cool down," she told her daughter, who was hovering over the muffin tin like a vulture. Tony honked from the driveway, drawing both women out of the house. "Whatta ride!" Mona growled.

"Wait until you see the tree!" Tony said. He lugged the fir out of the rear hatch and through the back door, allowing Mona to inspect his new vehicle.

"How did he pay for this set of wheels, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I paid for it, but what's mine is his."

"Oh. Does that include debt? Because he still owes me fifteen hundred bucks for your engagement ring."

"I'll take care of that," Angela promised.

Tony took Mona and the kids for a ride around the block as soon as they got home from school, letting Angela extend her afternoon nap. Sam stayed home only long enough to change her clothes and fix her hair and makeup for her date. She promised to eat something besides candy and soda at the movies. "Popcorn and an Icee," Tony predicted. "I'm checking her tongue when she gets home."

While Tony kept Jonathan busy helping to prepare dinner, Angela called Michael from the living room. "I thought I should let you know that Tony and I went to my twelve-week prenatal appointment today, and everything is on track, so we're telling the kids tomorrow."

"That's great, Angela. I'm sure they'll be excited about their little brother or sister," he said, sounding sincere. "And, uh, I'm glad you had Tony with you. I regret being away so much the last time you were pregnant."

"I'm glad he was with me, too," she said. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, anything."

She steeled herself for a confrontation. "Did you take Jonathan to Vermont last week?"

"Yeah, I did. Why?" he asked nervously.

"I wish you had told me. That's all. I do trust you with him. I just want to know where he is in case anything happens," she said.

He sighed, relieved that his ex-wife wasn't more upset about the transgression. "I'm sorry. You're being completely reasonable. I was excited to have him back and afraid you wouldn't let him go if I asked for permission like we agreed."

"I'd like us to work together. Jonathan's an intelligent child. He knows how to manipulate people."

"Alright, Angela. Do you think you could keep me in the loop about his academic progress?"

"Of course. And I want to make sure he gets to see you regularly. Maybe every other weekend?"

"So not this weekend, but next weekend? I can pick him up Friday night and bring him home Sunday night."

"That sounds good, Michael. Thank you for being so cooperative."

"Yeah, sure. It's nice to not fight with you for a change," he said lightly. "Hey, is Jonathan around? I'd love to talk to him."

"Sure, just a minute." She set the receiver down next to the phone base and went into the kitchen. "Jonathan, your father is on the phone," she said, picking up the red extension and handing it over to her son, who was busy pressing the pulse button on the food processor.

"Daddy!" he said, abandoning his post and taking the phone.

Angela hugged Tony from behind, knowing his hands were dirty. "How'd it go?" he asked quietly.

"Good. He's on board for every other weekend."

"And you told him we're making an announcement?"

"Yeah. Why couldn't we have gotten along this well when we were married?"

Tony turned in Angela's embrace and kissed the tip of her nose. "Because then I wouldn't have had a shot with you," he said, squeezing her with his arms. She couldn't resist slotting her lips against his for a long, loving kiss.

"Mom?" Jonathan said, interrupting them. He had already hung up the phone. "Daddy says I'm staying with him next weekend."

Angela slipped out of her husband's hold. "I know, darling."

"Can you two wait to kiss until I'm out of the house?" the boy asked.

"Not a chance," Tony said. "Come on, pal, let's finish making dinner.

"Quit pacing. You're wearing a hole in the floor," Mona griped at Tony. He had been antsy all through Dallas, springing from the couch as soon as the credits started to roll.

"She's not even late yet, honey," Angela reminded him.

"I can't help it. It's her first date since we came home," he said.

"Buckle in, Angela. You're going to be dealing with this when you're fifty," Mona teased.

"There she is!" Tony said, looking out the front window.

Sam opened the door to find three pairs of eyes staring in her direction. "What? You said be home by ten. It's ten."

Tony held his daughter's skull in both hands, turning it from side to side to view her neck, then opening her jaw and tilting her face upward.

"Blue tongue," he said smugly. "Did you have anything other than the Icee?"

"We went to the diner and Todd bought me a cobb salad," she said. "Geez."

"How was your date, sweetheart?" Angela asked, beckoning Sam to sit on the couch.

"I had a good time," she said, leaning her head against her mom's shoulder and closing her eyes.

Tony sat next to her and asked, "How good?"

Sam huffed out a little breath as she sat up straight and looked her father in the eye. "Nothing happened, Dad. We saw the movie, went to the diner, and he walked me home."

"He did? I didn't see him out there," he argued.

She slumped back and closed her eyes again. "I asked him to turn around two houses down," she said, not mentioning his arm around her or the brief kiss they'd shared on the sidewalk.

"Enough with the inquisition," Mona said. "Can't you see the girl is tired?"

"Go on up to bed, sweetie," Angela said. "We'll have plenty of time to talk tomorrow."

"Good night, Samantha," Tony relented. She kissed each of her parents on the cheek and gave Mona a small wave as she dragged herself upstairs.

Saturday, December 6, 1986

A Charlie Brown Christmas played on the turntable while the family indulged in the glorious spread of a breakfast Tony had prepared. Mona offered to fetch him a coffee refill and stealthily flipped the record at the end of the first side. The conclusion of the second side prompted her to begin putting away leftovers while the rest of the family lingered in the dining room. Finally, Jonathan piped up. "Are we gonna hang out in here all day?" he asked.

"No, pal. We have a lot to do! Let's you and me start clearing the table," Tony responded, enlisting the boy. Sam ran to the stereo and found the pop station that had temporarily switched to contemporary holiday music.

Angela had inventoried all of the decorations and determined where each item would spend the next month, and she doled out assignments to her family. Mona and Sam twisted garland around the banister, Jonathan set wooden nutcrackers near the hearth, and Tony spread little ceramic figures around the horizontal surfaces. Jonathan's handmade snow globe—a mason jar full of glitter and water with plastic trees and snowmen stuck in clay at the bottom—was given a prominent place on the mantle above his stocking.

The tree, which Tony had already strung lights on, was the last to be decorated. Angela barked orders at her family. "Alright, first we need to spread the plain ornaments evenly. Kids, you take the bottom. Mother, handle the middle. Tony, do the top section."

"You just want to look at his butt," Mona teased her daughter.

"Eww," Jonathan sneered.

"That side looks a little bare," Angela told Sam. "Move that one up and the other one over."

"Yes, Mommie Dearest," she said.

"Did you teach her that?" Angela asked Mona.

"Who, me? Of course not," the matriarch responded with a wide-open expression of innocence.

"How's that?" Sam asked.

Angela took another look. "Perfect. Next step: Popcorn and cranberry garland."

"Let's start at the top," Tony suggested. "Give me the bowl," he told Mona. Once he found the end and anchored it, he fished out a few feet of garland and circled the tree with the bowl. Then he untangled another length and repeated the action. "Jonathan, why don't you take this and walk slowly around the tree for me?" he asked, handing over the bowl. "Slowly."

Angela retrieved a second bowl of handmade garland from the top of the fridge, found the end for Tony, and gave Jonathan the honors of circling the tree again. "I'm getting dizzy," he said when he made his final rotation.

"Come sit down, darling," his mother said, patting a wing chair. He stumbled and caught himself on the way over.

"You better not puke, nerd," Sam warned, crossing her arms and elbowing Mona collegially.

"You sit, too, Samantha," Tony said, turning the stereo's volume knob to one.

Angela held a small box of unique ornaments that had been commingled from the Bower and Micelli collections when their first holiday season ended. "These are our special family mementos. Some of them were passed down from both of your grandparents, but there are two that hold extraordinary meaning." She passed Jonathan's "baby's first Christmas" ornament to him while Tony handed Samantha her corresponding bauble.

"Next year, we'll have three of these," Tony informed the kids. It took a second for the penny to drop, and then Sam was on her feet.

"Oh my God. This rocks!" she said, giving Angela a hug.

"I don't get it," Jonathan said, looking at his ornament for clues. "Why would there be three unless there was another baby?" he asked.

"There wouldn't," Angela said gently. "I'm pregnant," she told him.

"This is your fault!" Jonathan yelled at Tony, before running to his room.

"He's not wrong," Mona said with a wink. "Why don't I go talk to him?" she suggested, not waiting to follow her grandson.

Sam tried to comfort her parents. "He needs some time to get used to it. Maybe I should have talked to him about it, tried to prepare him for the news."

"That's not your job, honey," Tony said, looking her straight in the eye so she knew he was serious. "We're the parents."

"I should have asked him first. He could have told me no before it was too late," Angela fretted, tears running down her face.

"Angela," he said, reaching out to her.

"Oh, Tony," she sobbed. Sam stealthily passed him a tissue, and he let Angela blow her nose in it while he consoled her with a tale from his youth.

"He'll get over it. You know, Enzo Abelli's mom told him she was having a baby when we were in kindergarten, and he decided to run away from home instead of being a big brother."

"Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?" Angela asked.

"My point is that Enzo and his brother Alessandro ended up being the best of friends. They even went into business together!"

"They did? What kind of business?" she asked, sniffling.

"Financial services," he said. "Enzo's a loan shark and Alessandro's a bookie."

"Great," Angela said, rolling her eyes.

"If Jonathan goes into financial services, he'll be a stockbroker or an investment banker," Sam said. "That kid has white collar criminal written all over him," she teased. Angela cracked a smile just as Mona ushered Jonathan down the stairs.

"Congratulations, Mom," he managed to say. "I'm sorry for the way I reacted," he recited.

"Way to sell it, kid," Mona murmured.

"Come on, guys, let's finish putting the ornaments on the tree!" Tony said, turning up the stereo. While the task was completed, the mood of the house lifted until they were all singing along with Bruce Springsteen.