Chapter Four: Micelli Residence

Saturday, November 29, 1986

"I'm not yanking your chain, Marci. We were at the pool from February to October," Sam said. She was upside down in one of the living room chairs, head dangling just over the freshly-beaten rug, sneakers clacking together over the back of the chair. The phone cord stretched from behind the couch. Angela walked over carrying a basket of laundry and nearly tripped on it.

"It's time to get off the phone, Sam. You talked to your friends for two hours yesterday," she said, looking down at her and shifting the basket to one hip.

Sam sighed. "Marci, I gotta go. Have fun seeing the Rockettes!" She twisted her body until her feet were on the ground and her head was swimming. Angela took the receiver and replaced it on the phone base while the teen oriented herself. "Can Bonnie come over this afternoon?"

Angela set the basket on the coffee table and perched at the edge of the couch. "I don't see why not, as long as you finish finding all your old shoes and bringing them down. I want to make a donation run today."

"Oh good. Because I already told her she could. Thanks, Mom!" Sam said, running for the stairs.

"Don't forget your ice skates!" Angela called after her. She rifled through the clean laundry looking for socks to pair up.

Tony and Jonathan walked through the front door with shopping bags and started taking off their coats. "We got new trapper keepers, Pee-Chee folders, filler paper, pens, pencils, and crayons," Tony announced.

"And lunch boxes!" Jonathan added.

"That's great, darling. Did you get school supplies for yourself, Tony, or just for the kids?" Angela asked, folding his underwear just the way he liked. They hadn't yet merged their clothing storage, so he was still using his old dresser and closet.

"I got another plain binder and a new five-subject notebook, but Angela, I don't even know if I'm going to be taking classes next semester."

"Whether it's at Ridgemont or the community college, you'll be a student," she assured him. He only shrugged in response.

"Go upstairs and show your sister what we picked out for her," Tony told Jonathan. He sat down and reached into the basket to help with the folding, but when his hand brushed Angela's, he got distracted and ran his fingers all the way up her arm. She dropped the item she had been holding and put her hand on his thigh.

"Tony," she warned in a breathy tone, as he groped her over her sweater. They shared a long, soft kiss while he explored her changing body.

"You've got great knockers," he told her. "I can't keep my hands off them."

She laughed. "It doesn't seem like you're trying very hard."

"Well, something's gonna be very hard," he flirted, copping another feel. The phone rang, and he groaned when they broke apart.

"Micelli Residence," Tony answered cheerfully. "Ow," he yelped, receiving a light smack on the back of the head. "Yuh huh, she's here." He handed over the receiver, but leaned close to listen in on the conversation.

"Hello? Hi Wendy. Yes, it's really me," Angela said. "Yes, we're really alive. All of us. No, Tony doesn't have me tied up. Yes, I agree. That really is too bad," she giggled, giving him a mischievous look. A loud shriek of delight rang out over the line. "Why don't you come over? I'll show you our wedding album. OK, see you soon!."

"Mrs. Wittner talked to Dr. Shaeffer?" Tony guessed, replacing the receiver behind them.

"Yeah. She said she'd be here in ten minutes."

"That's ten minutes of makeout time," he submitted.

"I love you, but I haven't seen my friend in a year, and I'd rather fix myself up."

"You look perfect, my love, but go ahead. I'll finish the laundry."

Sam passed Angela on the stairs, as she carried down a box of shoes that no longer fit. "Thanks for getting those Lisa Frank stickers, Dad," she said, dropping the load on the desk and turning toward the basement.

"You're welcome, sweetheart." Tony finished folding laundry just as Sam returned with her skates and tossed them on top of the old shoes. The doorbell rang and he stood up. "Take this upstairs," he said, handing his daughter the basket. He opened the front door. "Mrs. Wittner, come in."

"Tony!" Wendy cried. "Give me a hug."

"Alright," he said, embracing her loosely. She gave his rear a little pat. "Hey! I'm married now, you know."

"So am I," she said, "but Herb doesn't have buns like yours."

"Those buns belong to me," Angela warned from the top of the stairs, pausing before she descended.

"Angela!" Wendy cried out. "You're a brunette! It's so good to see you again. You know, Joanne Parker never believed you were dead. She thought you two ran off together, and she spread her conspiracy theories all over town. I guess she was right for once," Wendy told her friend.

"Guess so," Tony said.

"You guys really got married?" she asked.

"We sure did!" Angela said, looping an arm around her husband.

"Well, he gets you all the time. Where's my hug?" Wendy asked.

"Aww, Wendy. I did miss you," Angela said, giving her friend a long, tight hug.

Tony felt out of place. "Do you two want anything to drink?" he asked, falling back on his old role.

"Oh, yes. Brandy, sherry, champagne…anything festive," Wendy sang.

"Wendy, it's noon!" Angela protested.

"We have coffee, milk, and soda," Tony said. "Or I could make some hot chocolate."

"Hot chocolate is good," Wendy granted, letting him retreat to the kitchen. "Isabel is off the sauce, and it's no fun to drink alone. We have to go out!"

"Maybe next weekend," Angela said, with no intention of following through. "We're really busy just getting everything in order around here. We haven't even started to decorate for Christmas."

"Oh, who cares about Christmas? Tell me everything. Where did you go? Did you talk to anyone while you were away? How come you came home? What was it like with the kids? What are you going to do for work now?"

"You have a lot of questions!" Angela said. "Where do I begin?"

"Why don't we cut to the chase? How long did it take for you to get Tony in the sack?" Wendy demanded.

"That's a little personal, don't you think?"

"I'm your best friend! The one who's been pulling for you two to hook up since the first time I saw him. And you didn't even tell me when you kissed. I had to find out from Paul Ferguson!"

"Fine. We only made it a couple of weeks, but you have to understand that we were sharing a bed."

"I wouldn't have made it a couple of minutes with that hunk! So? How was it?"

"Wendy!" Angela protested.

"She married me, didn't she?" Tony asked, bringing in a tray and sitting down next to Angela to give her a little kiss.

Wendy shrieked. "This is the most exciting thing ever!" she said, grabbing a mug.

"More exciting than Paul and Isabel?" Angela asked, letting her cocoa cool. "Aren't you her maid of honor?"

"Yeah, but I got to see that relationship develop in real time. This is like some kind of fairytale."

"'King Thrushbeard,'" Tony said. "Kind of."

"I'm not familiar," Angela said, looking at him with curiosity.

"Isn't that the one with the rich bitch who was forced to marry a pauper?" Wendy asked.

"Yeah, and they lived happily ever after," he replied. His wife shot him a withering glance. "I said kind of," he defended himself. The doorbell rang and he stood quickly. "Saved by the bell," he muttered, reaching for the doorknob.

"Hi Mr. Micelli!" Bonnie chirped. "I'm glad it was true that you're not dead."

"Thanks, Bonnie."

"Sam's upstairs," Angela offered.

"I'm glad you're not dead, either, Mrs. Bower."

"Thank you, Bonnie."

"Nice to see you, Mrs. Wittner."

"Uh huh."

The girl ran up the familiar stairs. Not thirty seconds had passed before Jonathan came down. "They're hurting my ears," he complained.

"There's squealing down here, too, pal. Why don't we go in the kitchen and make lunch?" Tony suggested.

Bonnie tore across from the upstairs landing to Sam's doorway. "Ahhhhh!" she screamed when she saw her old friend.

"Ahhhhh!" Sam screamed back, running over to give Bonnie a hug. Jonathan slammed his door closed and put his hands over his ears in a dramatic display of annoyance as he left the upstairs.

"I almost didn't come over," Bonnie said. "I thought you might be a zombie now. Marci had to explain that you've been alive all along."

"Oh, Bonnie. I missed you. Nobody else's mind works quite like yours."

"Thank you!"

"So, help me understand the social scene before I come back to school," Sam asked. "Who's the cutest? Who's the coolest?"

"Todd Phillips is the coolest. And Chad McCann is the cutest."

"Eeek! I can't wait to see everyone!"

"I bet both of them will ask you out."

"Do you really think so? Which one should I pick?"

"For sure! I'd go with Todd. Cool rubs off, but you can't really get cuter. Unless you buy clothes. Or get your hair cut. Or wear makeup. But you don't need a guy for that."

"Bonnie, you're really smart sometimes."

"I know. So did you date any boys in Phoenix?"

Sam closed her door before sitting on the bed and confiding in her friend. "I was going out with this guy named Jeff. He was sorta cute and a good kisser, but he wasn't boyfriend material."

"Why not?" Bonnie asked.

"He couldn't handle my superior athletic ability," Sam said, giving her hair a toss.

"Oh, that makes a lot of sense. I had a crush on this guy from the tennis academy, but it would never work out between us because of his career."

"His career? How old was this guy, Bonnie?"

"Twenty-four."

"Huh. You think it was his career that was the problem?"

"That and the fact that he lived with his girlfriend."

"I see. Anyway, before we moved, I was seeing Zack. One time, he gave me a hickey. It was so cool."

"Did you get in trouble?"

"No, Angela was really nice about it. She did ground me one time for going to an unsupervised party where my friend Natalie got a hickey. She really went overboard with a whole safe sex lecture. I mean, she even showed me how to put a condom on a banana."

"Whoa, Sam! Does your dad know about that?"

"Oh yeah. They tell each other everything now."

"Was it weird, pretending Angela was your mom?"

"I dunno. Not really. It kind of just felt normal. It was weird seeing them kiss at first. This one time, right after we moved, I went to the kitchen and saw them totally making out. My dad had his shirt off and everything! It freaked me out."

"Ewww, it's so gross when old people do that stuff. I can't believe they got married."

Sam shrugged. "I can't imagine them not being together anymore."

"How was the wedding?"

"It was so pretty. Do you wanna see some pictures?"

"Yeah!"

"Come on, I'm sure Angela has the photo album out for Mrs. Wittner," Sam said, opening her bedroom door.

"It was really lovely visiting with Wendy today," Angela told Tony that night from the bathtub as he massaged her right foot and calf. "Why don't you call some of your friends? They've probably heard by now."

For a moment, his mind wandered from the view he had been enjoying. "I wanna finish my term paper first. And we need to decorate for Christmas and get the kids enrolled in school and find another car and—"

"Alright, Tony. I get it. We have a lot to do. Why don't we decorate and go car shopping tomorrow?"

"Your ankle isn't bothering you at all?" he asked, switching to her left foot.

"No, but that feels great. Can I return the favor?"

"You wanna rub my shoulders?" he asked.

"Sure. I'll let some water out and you can sit in front of me." She opened the drain.

Tony didn't have to be asked twice. He peeled off his t-shirt and pushed down his sweats, carefully stepping into the tub and sitting down. He closed the drain and rolled his shoulders back, meeting his wife's hands.

"Yo, Angela, this reminds me of New Years Day in the hot tub," he said, hoping she would massage more than his shoulders.

"That was crazy of us, going to third base right in the back yard."

"Your mom bringing Ricky home? While you were topless and I had a raging boner?" he laughed.

"That man is going to be my stepfather someday!" she said. "I'm glad we got past the embarrassment."

"And we'll never see Danny again, thank God."

"Good riddance! Linda is so much better off without him." She moved down to his mid back as he leaned forward to give her more space.

"Our letters should have arrived by now," he said. "Oh, that feels good." He lifted under her knees and slid back, moving her hands around his waist. Her full breasts pushed into his back. "So good," he repeated.

"This is what you wanted to happen, isn't it?" she asked, stroking him.

"I'm not complaining," he said, as his breath shortened. "But I plan to take care of you, too."

"Like I told Wendy, I'm a very satisfied customer," she said, kissing him on the shoulder.

Sunday, November 30, 1986

Tony got up early and went into the attic for Christmas decor. After the dreary and unsettled Christmas they'd had in Mesa, he was determined to make the most of the holiday. He was able to find the lights and ornaments easily, thanks to his care in putting them away two years earlier. Why they hadn't decorated before they left Fairfield, he couldn't recall. Mona found him bringing extension cords over from the garage. "Let me give you a hand with that ladder," she offered, picking up one end in her gloved hand.

"Thanks, Mone. Angela is still sleeping. I want to try to get this done before she comes out and starts nitpicking." He led the way to the front of the house.

"Gee, she's been sleeping in a lot. I'm surprised you got out for Black Friday sales."

"Well, she had to throw…." He froze. They'd been hiding Angela's morning sickness for over a month.

"Yes, Tony? She had to throw what?" Mona asked, expectantly.

"She had to throw away so many old things," he said weakly, setting down his end of the ladder.

"Uh huh. When are you two going to make your announcement?"

"She wants to wait until she's in her second trimester," he snapped.

"I knew it! You're having a honeymoon baby, aren't you?"

"I think it happened that day you and Sam went to the pool."

"Ha! That's what I told Ricky. Ironic that Angela gave Sam the safe sex talk and immediately got knocked up."

"Hardy har har. It's not like it was an accident. Can you just act surprised when she tells you?"

"Sure thing. As long as she says something before she blows up like a balloon."

"Give us two weeks. We at least need to get her into the doctor again before she'll consider it."

Mona held the ladder while Tony put up the lights. Unlike her daughter, she had no notes, letting him use his own judgment. All was well until he began to descend the ladder and Diane Wilmington strolled across the lawn, staring up at his tush.

"Well, well, well. I heard Angela and Michael Bower were back in town, but I didn't expect to see the one and only Tony Micelli here. Are you still the live-in?"

"I don't know who told you that, Mrs. Wilmington."

"Francis at the hardware store said Michael came in whistling a happy tune two weeks ago. He was talking about putting up shelves in his kid's room."

"Plying your wares?" Mona sniped. Diane glared at her.

"Michael doesn't live here. He has his own place. I'm the man of the house," Tony said. He pulled the ladder away from the house and set it on its side.

"Oh, that's just darling that you still think that. Didn't Michael fire you last time he and Angela got back together?" she cooed. "I'm still a little hurt that you didn't come to me, when you knew there was a standing offer.

"It was more of a laying offer," Mona said. "Listen, I guess Joanne Parker didn't relay the whole story."

"Mona," Tony warned, as he retracted the extension ladder for storage.

"This is the Micelli house now. Angela and Tony are together and Michael is fully aware of it."

Sam, Jonathan, and Angela came out carrying mugs of cocoa. "Hello, Diane," Angela called. "Are you harassing my husband?"

"So you gave up on looking for a man and settled for a marriage of convenience?" she asked rhetorically, shaking her head in feigned pity. "Sad."

"For your information, these two are very much in love," Mona insisted.

"Getting involved with the help, Angela? That's even worse. I'm surprised at you. It's just not done."

"Didn't Charles take up with Phoebe?" Mona asked pointedly.

"Hrmph! That's what I get for trying to welcome my neighbors back to town," Diane said, spinning on her heel and stomping back home.

"Bye-ee!" Sam called after her.

"I made French toast casserole," Angela told her mother and husband.

"She had to strain the eggshells out," Jonathan piped up. Mona ushered him and Sam into the house.

"Honey, I thought you were good at cracking eggs now," Tony said, letting Angela help him carry the ladder.

"I was, but the shells are different here," she whined.

"Thank you for making breakfast," he said.

"You have to brew the coffee. I can't stand the smell of the grounds."

They went into the garage and Tony tucked the ladder back into place. He took a steadying breath and turned to his wife. "I hate to tell you this, but your mother has picked up on some of your symptoms."

"I'm not surprised. She makes it her business to know everything about everyone in the family."

"And in the Wilmington house, too."

"Look, I left a message with my OB/GYN's answering service. They should call me back with an appointment tomorrow. Since I'm not working, I'll be able to take the first available."

"OK. But after that, we tell the family," Tony insisted.

"Assuming everything is in order, we will." Angela relented. "It's cold out here. Let's get inside and warm up."

"My term paper is finished!" Tony announced, coming out of Angela's office waving a stamped, addressed manilla envelope. She was laying back on the couch eating an orange. "Thanks for letting me use your word processor."

"My word processor is your word processor. Did you still want to go car shopping? It is the last day of the month." She stuffed a section in her mouth. "Good time for a deal," she said with her mouth full.

"We can browse, but don't you think we should wait to buy? Maybe the end-of-year sales will be even better," he replied, standing by the front door.

"Well, we only have one car, Tony. As soon as I find a job, we'll need another."

"I can take you to the train, Angela. With no income, I'm not sure I'd even be able to get an auto loan."

"I have plenty in my money market account to cover a midsized sedan."

"What if I don't want a midsized sedan?" he countered.

"I think I should have a say," she spat out. "It is my money, after all."

"It was my van that got sacrificed," he whined.

"Because it was a worthless death trap," she said, throwing her remaining orange half onto the pile of peel sitting on the coffee table and standing.

Tony's chest puffed up in defense. "It had sentimental value!"

"There's no way you could have kept it," she said, putting a hand on her slight bump. "You need something safe and reliable."

"I know that! Do you really think I'd get something unsafe, Angela? You have that little faith in me?"

"I don't know what to expect of someone who gives toddlers nickels to play with!" she snapped.

"That was a long time ago! Where's the newspaper?" he asked impulsively. "I'm gonna find a job and buy myself a car."

"How are you planning to get there?" she taunted.

"I'll take the bus!" he said, storming out the front door.

After walking around the block, Tony snuck into the kitchen and opened up the newspaper to the classifieds. He read the ads aloud.

"Wanted: Experienced arm wrestler. Must have 16" biceps." He shook his head. Even at his bulkiest, his biceps were shy by a half inch.

"Computer key punch operator for data entry. Experience required." That wouldn't work.

"Need extra income? Sell Avon. Set your own hours." No way.

"Industrial Arts/Driver Education teacher wanted." If he had his degree, this would be an option, but not his top choice.

Angela was on the other side of the swinging door preparing to clean up the mess she'd made of her snack when she heard her husband going over job openings. It pissed her off that she had humbled herself and allowed him to lead the family, but he wasn't willing to let her pay for a necessity now that she was the one with more resources.