A/N: Merry Christmas Eve Eve!

Chapter Six: Boxes

Wednesday, November 26, 1986

Dear Friends,

Are you sitting down? You should be sitting down for this. Really.

Our family has recently left the witness protection program and returned to our home in Fairfield, Connecticut. We'd like to reintroduce ourselves.

You knew him as Christopher "Bobby" Moretti Sr., but his real name is Tony Micelli! Tony is a former professional baseball player (St. Louis Cardinals). After a career-ending injury and the loss of his wife, Samantha's mother Marie, he moved his daughter from Brooklyn to Connecticut, where he worked as a housekeeper for the Bowers.

You knew her as Jessica "Jess" Moretti, but her real name is Angela Bower! Angela is an advertising executive, most recently President of Wallace and McQuade. After splitting from her husband, Michael, a filmmaker, she retained full custody of their son, Jonathan. As a busy single mother, she needed help with childcare and household management, so she hired Tony two years ago. She plans to change her last name, now that they are married. (Thank you for attending the wedding!)

You knew her as Cassandra "Cassie" Walsh, but her real name is Mona Robinson! Mona, a widow, recently returned to college and completed a degree in Psychology at Ridgemont University. She enjoys shopping, fine dining, and exotic vacations. A selfless deed gone wrong led to her joining her daughter's household at the beginning of last year.

You knew her as Jennifer "Jen" Moretti, but her real name is Samantha "Sam" Micelli! Sam loves sports, fashion, music, and nail polish. Her dream is to be the Manager of the Mets. She lost her Brooklyn accent and made many friends during her first year in Connecticut.

You knew him as Christopher "Chris" Moretti Jr., but his real name is Jonathan Bower! Jonathan is King of the Reptiles, but he also loves other creepy and slimy creatures. He is knowledgeable on the major provisions of the Tax Reform Act. His father missed him dearly over the past year and has relocated to Fairfield to spend more time with him.

How did all of this come about? Sadly, it started when a hit was carried out on Sam's grandfather, Nick Milano, while he was visiting the family home. Tony witnessed the assailant making his getaway. Because of the man's connection to organized crime, Tony and his daughter were put under protection. Mona was also considered a witness. She, along with Angela and Jonathan, was originally meant to be placed in a separate location. Fortunately, the government agreed to keep all five members of the family together.

You must have so many questions. We'd love to speak or correspond with you. Please reach out to us as soon as you pick yourself up off the floor!

Sincerely,

The Robinson-Bower-Micelli Family

Monday, December 1, 1986

Sheila read the letter three times through before she picked up the phone and dialed the number at the bottom of the page. A woman answered, but the long-distance call wasn't crystal clear. She couldn't be sure it was her friend.

"Hello. Is this Angela Bower?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes, it is," Angela responded. She knew the voice. "Is this Sheila?" Tony looked over from the sink and excitedly approached.

"Yeah, it's me. I just read your letter," Sheila said. She felt her baby kick and put her hand on the targeted area.

"Oh, I'm so glad you called. I was starting to wonder if it was lost in the mail. How are you feeling?"

"Same, but we're getting ready for the baby to arrive. I could go into labor any time. They say he's over five pounds now."

"Awww, it's a boy?" Angela asked. Her thoughts turned to her own baby's sex, and she unconsciously set her hand on her belly in the exact same spot Sheila was touching two thousand miles away

"Yep. Another boy," Sheila sighed. "We didn't want to know, but it was really obvious on my last sonogram."

"That's amazing," Angela said. She hadn't known Jonathan was a boy until he was born. Tony was bouncing around the kitchen silently, delighted to listen to his wife and their friend reconnecting. She took pity on him. "Tony wants to say hello," she said, handing over the receiver.

"Hi Sheila! Have you picked out a name?" he asked.

"Not yet. Josh wants to name him Arthur, but I like Simon." The former didn't feel like a baby name to her, and she wasn't too keen on nicknames. Each person in her family had always been called by their given name. Josh's family was the opposite, with everyone going by shortened versions of their full names.

"Oh, they're both great! I'm so happy for you!" he gushed.

"Well, I could say the same. You two really just got married?" Sheila asked.

"That's right. Angela and I were just friends when we left Connecticut," Tony confirmed.

"I wouldn't say just friends," Angela said, grabbing the phone. "We weren't romantically involved, but we were very close."

The realization struck Sheila. That must be why the two were so hot for each other. They were still in their first year as a couple. "Oh my god," she said. "You weren't sleeping together! When I had you over for that first playdate. I remember now! No wonder you were so frustrated."

Angela turned red and a squeak emerged from her throat. Her friend could read her mind, even over the phone. "Jess," Sheila said. "Sorry. Angela. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. Everything worked out, didn't it?"

"Yes, we're very happy," she said, looking at her husband.

"Well, Josh and I will have to sit Seth down and explain this all to him. Maybe the boys can be pen pals."

"Jonathan would love to have a pen pal!"

"It's going to be so weird getting used to your new names," Sheila groaned.

"I know. It was weird getting used to our old names," Angela said with a laugh.

"I should go. We'll talk soon, ok?"

"Thanks for calling. Take care, Sheila."

"Bye, Angela."

Tuesday, December 2, 1986

The next morning, eighteen boxes from Arizona were dropped off in the driveway. Angela paced around the pile wondering how they had possibly acquired so much. She looked up at the sky and saw dark grey clouds. "Better start getting these inside," she said to herself, picking up a large box.

"No!" Tony yelled, running from the kitchen. He took the box from her and discovered that it only weighed ten pounds. "Oh," he said, sounding almost disappointed. "Go inside, honey. I'll finish up."

"I'm not helpless," Angela protested, but she let him take over. It was nice to be taken care of, and she could hardly fault him for wanting her to be extra cautious while she carried his child. He enjoyed doing things for other people. It was one of the reasons she fell in love with him.

Only two small boxes went to Mona's. She had already taken most of her things to Ricky's place. Very few of her recently acquired items had any sentimental or even practical value once she was back in Fairfield. It wasn't as though she held much sentiment, anyway. Not like her daughter, who cried during car commercials and kept her son's baby teeth.

Mona thought she might have cried more during her year with Ricky than at any other time in her life. The only possible exceptions were after Robert's death and in the months following Angela's birth. She tended to close herself off to heightened emotion. After unpacking, she considered what else she might want to bring to Phoenix. It was only three months, she reminded herself. In fact, they'd be back for Christmas. Perhaps it would be better to wait and let Ricky have some input. She decided to run an errand instead. The empty boxes were nested and set to the side of the entryway. One glimpse outside revealed the threat of rain, so she put her compact umbrella into her coat pocket and went to the main house.

"Angela?" Mona called. There was no sign of life downstairs, so she went up and called again, hoping not to interrupt anything. "Angela? Tony?"

"Hey Mone," Tony said, popping out of his old bedroom.

"I just wanted to borrow the jag," Mona told him.

"I don't think we're going anywhere for a while," he said, crossing to the primary bedroom.

"The keys are in my purse by the door," Angela said. She was sitting on the floor, looking through a box.

"Thank you, dear. I should be back in an hour or two," Mona said.

"Where are you off to?" Angela asked.

"Ridgemont. I want to see if I can get them to let me graduate."

"Oh! That's wonderful, Mother. May your undertaking be efficacious."

Tony smirked at Angela's grandiose vocabulary. "Yeah, good luck, Mona," he said, listening as she descended the stairs and went out the door. "Hey Ange, you think she'll run into Jason?" he asked with a silly grin.

She gasped. "Do you think that's why she's going?"

"She wouldn't," he said. "Would she?"

"I don't know," she said, chewing the inside of her lip and staring at the ceiling.

"Well, would you?" he pressed.

"No, of course not!" she snapped, beginning to get up right as the phone rang. "I'll get it," she said, causing him to hold his hands up in mock surrender. "Hello?"

"Monday the eighth at ten in the morning?" Angela repeated. "Yes, absolutely. I'll be there," she said. "Thank you, Jack!" She flashed Tony a huge smile.

"You got an interview?" he asked.

"Yes, I did. Head copywriter at Sterling and Simpkin," she told him, sitting on the bed and looking down at her hands in her lap. It didn't sound like such good news when she said it aloud.

"Angela!" Tony knelt in front of her, taking her hands and getting in her eye line. "That's way beneath you. Would you actually take it?"

"Maybe. It pays fifty grand. We could make it work," she said, giving him an unsure, closed-mouth smile and a shoulder shrug.

"That's not nothin'," he admitted. "But you deserve better. I hate to see your talent go to waste."

"It could be a short-term solution. Just until I get back into the swing of things."

He sat beside her. "I guess you're right. Gee, I hope something better comes along soon."

"I'll be lucky to get a job at all with the way things are in the ad world right now. Unfortunately, advertising is the only thing I know how to do. The most lucrative thing I know how to do, anyway. It doesn't help that I'm going to be going on maternity leave in six months."

"Well, are you sure I should be going to school, then?"

"Tony, why did you decide to go back to school? Do you remember?"

"I wanted to improve myself and become the kind of man you deserve to be with."

"I didn't know that was how you felt. Do you still?" Angela asked quietly.

"I still wanna improve myself, but I'm not so insecure about us. It's more about wanting to take care of our family now."

"That's good. You know, your education is an investment in our future, Tony. Our baby won't remember a time when you didn't have your degree."

He knelt back down and framed the small swell of her belly. "Do you want Daddy to go to school?"

"Honey, it's too early, she laughed. "The baby can't hear yet, and she certainly can't respond."

He kissed her abdomen anyway. "I'll work on my essay tonight," he promised.

Mona left the university registrar's office feeling optimistic that her petition for graduation would be approved. She had learned that she earned passing grades in her last term, despite not turning in final papers or sitting for final exams. On the way back to the car, she let curiosity get the better of her and stopped in at the admissions office, where Jason had been working a year earlier. She suspected that was where Tony and Angela had seen him.

"Can I help you?" a sandy-haired man asked, failing to look away from his computer monitor.

"Hello," Mona said, walking up to the counter. "I heard you were still on campus."

"Oh my God!" Jason said, covering his cheeks in shock. He stood up and began gesturing excitedly. "Mona! It's you. Your daughter was in here with her 'housekeeper' yesterday." He tilted his head and asked, "Are they still sticking with that story?"

"Ha! No, they're a couple now. Married even."

"Huh. I always thought it was hypocritical of her to judge our relationship when she was in a situation of her own."

"To be fair, they weren't 'in a situation' when we were seeing each other. She's loosened up since then."

"And you? You've settled down?"

"I've been with a wonderful man for the past year."

"Someone your age?" he inquired, giving away his jealousy.

"A little older, actually."

"And it's serious?"

"We have a dog together. I'm going to live with him in Phoenix for a few months and then we'll figure out where to go from there."

"So there's no chance of us getting back together?"

"No, Jason. I'm sorry," Mona said, shaking her head.

"It's alright. I went through a rough time when I thought you died, but eventually, I recovered. Decided to go for that master's degree. Got my own apartment."

"Good for you. I'm sorry to have put you through that."

He bit his lip and looked aside, not able to confess while maintaining eye contact. "You were the one that got away, you know?"

"That's sweet of you to say, but it was never going to work out between us. You're just getting started in life, and I'm ready to make the most of the time I have left."

He nodded and returned his gaze to her. "Were you really in witness protection?"

"Yes, we were. Someone I cared about lost his life."

"I'm sorry," Jason said, reaching out. He wasn't close enough to touch her and tried to pretend he had only meant to put his hand on the counter between them.

"Yeah, well, it happens," Mona deflected. "I've got to go. It was nice to see you, Jason. Take care of yourself, won't you?" She put her hand on top of his, but he caught it and squeezed.

"Yeah. Thanks for stopping by."

Mona opened her umbrella and stepped out from under the overhang of the building. It was only lightly raining, but she felt dampness on her face. The short fling with Jason was her last with a much younger man. Saying goodbye felt like abandoning her youth. "Onward and upward!" she said to herself.

Tony and Angela went into the attic after unpacking their boxes and leaving their children's belongings in their rooms. "Oh, this is a mess," she said, looking around at the hodgepodge. It was so much worse than the assortment of clothes, shoes, and purses she'd brought back from Arizona. She thanked her lucky stars that they had never really gotten around to decorating the house in Mesa.

"I dusted as well as I could," he said defensively. After putting up exterior lights, he'd spent more than an hour wiping down surfaces. In that time, he'd located the ornaments, garland, and Christmas tchotchkes.

"Of course you did, Tony. I just meant that I've hoarded a lot of stuff," she said, trailing a hand over her decorative saddle and contemplating the picture frames, wooden tennis rackets, chairs, and snowshoes hanging around the perimeter. Her gaze landed on a giant resin goldfish.

"Hey, some of this stuff is mine, too." He opened a box and picked up a red hardbound copy of Romeo and Juliet. "See?"

"Ohhh, I didn't know you had that," Angela said, taking the book. She opened the front cover and read, "Property of Tony M."

"Well, you got your own copy downstairs, so I never pulled it out," he explained.

"It's such a romantic play," she gushed, flipping through the pages to review his margin notes.

"Don't read those," he begged, reaching for it.

She held her place with one finger and twisted away. "Why?" she teased. "Are you embarrassed?"

"No," he grumbled. "I'm not embarrassed. It's just that my opinions have changed."

"How so?" she asked. A funny feeling began to brew in her stomach. At first, she thought it was the morning sickness she had dodged for two whole days. Then, she realized it was butterflies. They had discussed their mutual love of Shakespeare on their very first date.

"I used to think it was romantic. Now, I think it's kind of fucked up. Especially now that Sam is that age."

"Well, it is a tragedy," Angela conceded, handing the book back to him. A yellowed paper fell on the floorboards. "What's that?" she asked.

"My Grandpa Micelli's citizenship test," Tony said, picking it up and unfolding it. "What'd I tell ya? A hundred percent!" he boasted.

"Wow! I wonder if he could still be naturalized. Posthumously, I mean," she said.

"Nah, I've never heard of that," he said, dismissing the idea.

"We've been through all kinds of legal maneuvers we never thought were possible, Tony. We got married while we were dead!"

"But we were fake-dead. Grandpa Micelli is dead-dead, six feet under an oak tree in sleeping meadows."

"OK, but it's something to consider pursuing, isn't it?"

"It's a nice thought, honey, but we have enough posthumous legal shit to deal with ourselves, don't we?" He tucked the old test back in the book and replaced it in the box it came from.

"You're right. I just thought it would make you feel better about getting busted by the fuzz and destroying his dreams."

"Angela!" Tony said with an exaggerated eye roll. He loved her like crazy, but she was the only person he knew who managed to be both tone-deaf and corny at the same time.

"Alright, I'll let it go," she relented, crossing the space. "Have you seen this?" she asked, pulling a dropcloth off an ivory wicker cradle.

"Yeah, it was Jonathan's," he said. She felt his arms wrap around her from behind. "What else did you keep?" he asked, resting his chin on her shoulder. "We gave away almost all of Sam's baby stuff. Most of it was hand-me-downs, anyway. She never had a cradle. We used to rock her in a laundry basket."

She turned her head to get a little smooch. "What'd you do on laundry day?"

"Put her in a dresser drawer," he chuckled. She was afraid to ask whether he was telling the truth.

"His crib was donated, but I couldn't bear to part with his high chair. I've got a few of his little outfits and shoes. And his baby teeth. And a lock of hair. And there's a whole box of home movies somewhere in here."

"Do you have any pictures of when you were pregnant?" he asked, turning her in his arms.

"You want to see what I'll look like in June?" she asked, hanging her head with a pout. "I told you I gained sixty pounds."

"And I'm sure you were a vision," he said sincerely. He grazed his lips over hers and she surprised him with an enthusiastic tongue. His breath shortened when she unzipped his jeans and slid her hand inside. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" he cried, catching sight of a nativity scene in the corner.

"I'm sorry, Tony. I need to touch you. It's the hormones," she explained between fervent kisses.

"Hey, I like it," he said, groping her. "You think we're good up here?" he asked. The house was empty, but it wouldn't be for too long.

"I don't care right now. I just want you," she told him, pushing herself against him and nibbling on his earlobe. "It's so hot how you put a baby in me." Her heated breath sent a shiver down his spine and his blood rushing south.

"Been thinking about it for a long time," he said. When he met Michael, it was the first time he actually considered how Jonathan had come to be. Ever since then, a part of him had longed to occupy Angela's womb with his issue. It was a dream he never expected to come true.

"Me too. I had given up on having another child before I met you." She shed her sweater while he tugged his sweatshirt off by the neckband.

"Shake those puppies," he said, transfixed by the sight of her bra-clad bosom. Amused with his reaction to her temporary bustiness, she bent slightly forward and shimmied for him, biting her bottom lip while she gave him a seductive stare. "Come 'ere," he told her, sitting down on a trunk and burying his face in her cleavage while he undid her pants. His open-mouthed kisses were pressed to all the skin within reach, and she encouraged him with an assortment of hums, sighs, and moans.

"Your lips feel so good, Tony!" She unhooked her bra and let him spend more time kissing her bare torso. "Oh, and your tongue."

"You want my tongue?" he asked, sliding her panties down.

"I want you," she said, putting both hands down on the trunk next to him and arching her back in an unmistakable invitation.

"Madonna mia!" He hopped up and grabbed a crocheted blanket, folding it twice and setting it down where he had been sitting. "Put your knee up here," he instructed, getting behind her.

"Oh! Yes! Just like that!" she cried out before her words failed her. His hands roamed all of her feminine curves while she enjoyed the fullness and friction of their union. Afterward, they gathered their scattered clothing and caught their breath.

"That was fun," Tony commented, holding Angela's body against his own again before she had a chance to dress.

"Just fun?" she teased, giving him a kiss. "I love you," she said, hugging his waist and turning her ear to his chest to hear his heartbeat. She slid one hand from his back to his appendix scar and caressed it, thinking of his proposal.

"I love you, too," he said, reluctantly letting her go. The phone started ringing just as he pulled up his jeans. "I'll get that," he said, scrambling down the stairs to the bedroom. "Hello?" he answered. "She's not available at the moment. May I ask who's calling?" He listened with his hand over the mouthpiece as Angela came down the stairs. "Actually, she's right here, Dr. Smithers," he said.

"School psychologist?" Angela mouthed.

"Yeah," he said, handing the receiver over. The front door slammed shut in the wind. "That's Mona," he said, running downstairs.

"This is Angela Bower," she said. "Two o'clock? Yes, we'll see you then, Dr. Smithers," she said, hanging up. "Tony?!" she yelled.

"Coming!" he yelled back.

"We have to go to the school to talk about Jonathan's grade placement," she told him.

"Luckily, your mother brought the jag back in one piece," he joked.

"I'm just going to freshen up, and then we can head out. Would you mind making me a little snack?"

"Anything for my baby," he said.

Angela and Tony were ten minutes early to the school. After straightening out Jonathan's grade placement and providing a copy of the erroneous death case notice for their files, the trio headed home together. "Are we getting a Christmas tree this year?" the boy asked from the back seat.

"Yeah, in fact we were looking for decorations earlier today," Tony said, giving Angela a sly glance. A guilty smirk crossed her face as she sank down in the passenger's seat.

"I don't want you to tie a tree to the roof of this car," she told him. "We should be able to get one delivered. I'll call around."

"I'll do it. You have your job search," he offered.

"You still need to finish your college application," she countered.

"Daddy took me to Vermont to chop down a tree," Jonathan piped up from the back seat.

"What? He did? When?" Angela asked, doing her best to maintain a neutral tone. Technically, Michael was supposed to get her permission to take the boy out of state, but their original custody agreement was still in place. She supposed they should modify it, now that he had a local residence.

"The day before Thanksgiving," he said. Tony reached out and put his hand on her leg to calm her.

"Oh, right," she said. Not twelve hours after they dropped her son off, his father was taking him on a road trip. That explained the scent of pine trees in Michael's car on the way to and from Brooklyn, which she had initially assumed was an air freshener. He was lucky that it was one of the few strong smells that didn't induce nausea. She made a mental note to discuss the subject of Jonathan and travel with her ex.

"We'll figure out the tree and finish decorating for Christmas by this weekend, pal," Tony told Jonathan.

"Alright!" he said, pumping his fist. It was his first year reaping the benefits of having divorced parents. His father had always indulged him with gifts upon returning home from distant shoots. Now, there was a whole year's worth of absence to make up for. He was going to hit the mother lode.