Chapter Ten: Business Plan
Friday, December 12, 1986
The Micelli house welcomed friends on Friday afternoon. Not even five o'clock, and it was already dark and cold outside. Upstairs, Jenny Wittner watched Jonathan try to build a house of cards on his desk. She had plenty of constructive criticism about his technique, and eventually, he gave up. "Wanna play war?" he asked, handing her the deck.
Sam was supposed to be doing her math homework, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to procrastinate for a little while. Instead, she closed her door and put The Police on at low volume while she started writing back to Natalie.
Dear Nat,
Thanks for your letter. I miss Mesa. You don't even get how cold it is here. I used to not mind it. I got into snowball fights and went ice skating all the time when I was a kid. It hasn't snowed enough yet, and I grew out of my old skates, so it's just cold.
My mom is starting to look a little pregnant now. She bleached her hair blonde again. Just like when we were living here before. I think it really freaked out my dad. He's been acting weird a lot. Oh, he's going to do his degree at Ridgemont University, which is really close to our house.
School is OK. My English teacher is so cool. She's twenty-six years old and she has a lot of earrings. I think Todd really likes me, but he also looks at other girls. Do you ever hear anything about Zack? I wonder if he forgot about me. Are you dating anyone?
Jonathan is hanging out with this kid named Jenny. She's nerdy, just like him. I hope the new baby is a girl. Brothers are a pain in the butt! How is your family?
Write soon!
Love,
Sam
In the living room, Angela chatted with Wendy, who was delighted to learn about the baby. "I'm throwing the shower," she insisted. "Oh! Would you want to do a joint shower with Isabel?"
"That would be lovely, but we have quite a few months to go," Angela pointed out. "Tony hasn't even moved all of his clothes into my room. Our room, I mean." She laughed as Wendy stifled a yawn. "Would you like to talk about something else?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I was up all night with the Jackie Collins book I caught Jenny reading."
The phone rang once. "Would you like some coffee?" Angela asked her guest.
"Sure! Maybe I can stay awake long enough to put some of those ideas into action tonight. I just need to wait for Herb to fall asleep first."
"I'll pour you a cup," Angela said, getting up and going to the kitchen.
Tony was simmering a meat sauce and stirring an egg and seasonings into ricotta for lasagna when the phone rang. "Hello?" he answered.
"Hi Tony. It's Michael."
"Hey Mike!" he said, tucking the receiver against his shoulder so he could shred mozzarella. "What's up? You're still taking Jonathan this weekend, aren't you?" he asked.
"Absolutely, but I'm stuck at work. I'll be getting on the road a little later than I had hoped." An elephant trumpeted in the background, as if to corroborate the story. "Is it alright if I pick him up around seven-thirty? Or would you rather feed him dinner? Honestly, I was thinking of taking him to Bongo Burger."
"Why don't you come by at seven-thirty and have dinner with us?" Tony asked. He saw Angela come through the swinging door and take a clean mug from the dishrack.
"Oh, that's nice of you to offer, but I don't want to intrude," Michael said.
"Who are you talking to?" Angela mouthed at her husband. She didn't bother to watch for an answer, instead concentrating on pouring Wendy's coffee.
"It's Michael," Tony said aloud.
"See if he wants to join us for dinner," she replied, ducking under the phone cord to go back to the living room.
"If you can handle a dose of teen angst, you're more than welcome. I think Angela needs to talk to you," Tony confided.
"Oh. Alright, I'll see you then," Michael said, resigned to the idea that he'd have to apologize for something later that evening.
Jenny came downstairs when Wendy called up to her. Jonathan trailed behind the girl looking a little lovesick. After the Wittners left, Angela poked her head into Sam's room. "How's your homework coming along?" she inquired.
"I'm almost done with this assignment," she said. "Can I spend the night at Bonnie's?"
"You can go after dinner, but you have to stay there. No parties!" she said, channeling Tony.
"Bonnie got Trivial Pursuit Junior for Hanukkah, so we'll probably just play with her mom."
Angela was confused. "Hanukkah starts after Christmas this year, Sam. And Bonnie's family isn't Jewish."
Sam shrugged. "That's probably why they don't know when to open gifts."
"You've really outdone yourself this time," Ricky said, savoring a bite of the bourbon-butterscotch cake Mona had made for his birthday.
"I have, haven't I?" she said with a smile.
"The cake, the cocktails, that dress. It's all perfect, sugar."
"Did you like my performance?" she asked. In lieu of a royalty-free birthday song, she had sung a breathy 'Happy Birthday,' wearing the form-fitting, low-cut, red sequined gown she had brought back from Connecticut.
"Marilyn is rolling over in her grave," he joked.
"Cheers!" she said, bumping her rocks glass against his and sipping her old fashioned. "I know you asked for no gifts, but I got you something anyway," she said, handing over a box with a bow on top.
"Your presence is more than enough, Mona." He glanced at the box and returned his gaze to the woman standing in front of him. "Thank you for coming back to Phoenix."
"Open it, you old sap," she ordered.
"A watch? It's sporty," he said, pulling it from the case and turning it over in his hands. "Tag Heuer Night Dive," he read.
"It's going to be in the next Bond movie," she explained. "Do you not like it?"
"I do like it. It's just that I don't know a lot about watches."
"Trust me, I've noticed the Timex," Mona grumbled. Ricky only wore his Rolex on special occasions.
"This is great," he said, taking off his old watch and replacing it with the gift. "Thank you. I promise to educate myself, and to retire this dime store timepiece." He dangled the item by its cheap leather band and dropped it on the counter. "Now, is there anything else I can unwrap?" he asked, looking directly at her cleavage.
"Why don't you finish your dessert out here? When you're ready for seconds, I'll be waiting in the bedroom."
"New lingerie?" he asked hopefully.
"If you could call it that," she responded, winking over her shoulder.
"Are you gonna join a frat when you go to college?" Jonathan asked Tony.
"I don't think so, pal. What do you know about frats?"
"I've seen the poster for Animal House at Sam Goody. It looks fun. Grandma's boyfriend was in one. All the guys sang to her and he put a pin on her sweater. Remember?"
Tony chuckled. "Yeah, I remember," he said, wondering how long it was going to take the kid to wise up. The doorbell rang. "That's your dad, Jonathan. Can you let him know dinner will be ready soon?"
"Sure!"
Angela also heard the doorbell and was halfway down the stairs when Jonathan opened the door. "Hi Daddy! Come in." he said. "Dinner will be ready soon."
"Thanks, kiddo," Michael said.
"Jonathan, could you make sure you have everything packed?" Angela asked. "I need to speak with your father."
"OK!" he said, running up the stairs two at a time until he was almost at the top. He didn't quite have the stamina to make it all the way on his little legs. When he went into his room, Sam padded out of hers. She knelt on the landing and watched Angela and Michael through the spindles of the railing.
"Hello, Angela. You must be feeling better," Michael said, kissing her on the cheek.
"Yuck," Sam said under her breath. It was annoying how comfortable the two were together.
"Sit down for a minute," Angela offered, taking a side chair while Michael perched on the couch. "I am feeling better. How did you know?"
"You had a rough first trimester last time, too," he said. "I know, I know. I was away for five months, but we did talk and write. I remember those long letters you used to send."
Angela sighed. She had wondered at the time whether he was even reading them. "I remember your postcards. 'Love you. Miss you. Wish you were here.' Same message every time," she said, giving him a disapproving look.
"Sorry. I should have put more effort in."
"Yeah, well, that's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about. I've decided to start my own agency, and Tony's been accepted to Ridgemont."
"Wow, that's great, Angela!"
"That's great," Sam mouthed, silently mocking him solely for her own amusement.
"Jonathan really loves having you around, but we might need more help going forward."
"He can stay with me any time you need a break. You know, I have the bunk beds, and Sam is always welcome, too. Or I can come over here if that's easier."
"Really?" she asked. "That's awfully generous of you."
"I know I'm not her favorite person, but she's family," he said. "Jonathan is hoping you'll adopt her."
"He brought that up to me, too. I do want to adopt Samantha, but I don't know how she would feel about it. Tony doesn't seem too thrilled about the idea."
"What the hell, Dad?" Sam mouthed.
"Why are you spying? Are they talking about Christmas presents?" Jonathan whispered behind her back.
"Jonathan!" Sam hissed at him. "I'm not spying," she said, pushing him back toward his room.
"Yes, you were," he insisted.
"Dinner's ready!" Tony yelled. He had already set the table and put the lasagna on a trivet. Angela and the kids were seated within thirty seconds, while Michael used the powder room and joined the family a couple of minutes later.
"So, what classes are you planning to take first, Tony?" he asked, holding up his plate for a serving of salad.
"I have to retake Public Speaking. I'm going to try for Chemistry. They say lab classes are pretty hard to get into. Let's see. Composition. Anthropology. European History. Computer Information Systems. I might pick up a PE class, too."
"Wow, that's a full load."
"I might have to cut back in the Fall, but I'm hoping to graduate on time. It'll be the nineties by then!"
"As long as you finish college before I start," Sam said.
"You were supposed to finish high school before I start," Jonathan pointed out to her.
"Well, maybe I'll finish a year early. That way we won't have to go to high school together," she retorted.
"You're awfully quiet," Tony said to Angela. "You OK?"
"Just thinking," she said. Twelve years of tuition? How much would it even cost two decades in the future?
"It's not all on you," he said quietly, squeezing her knee under the table.
"Your agency is going to be a huge success and Tony will have a great teaching career," Michael reassured his ex-wife. "Plus, these two will probably be swimming in scholarships," he said, putting an arm over the back of Jonathan's chair and gesturing at Sam. The kids shared a look, each smiling furtively at the prospect of a competition.
"Alone at last," Tony said, shutting the front door. Michael and Jonathan had left as soon as they finished cleaning the kitchen together, but Sam had needed a little more time with her math homework before she was allowed to go to Bonnie's house. "What do you want to do?" he asked. "Because I have a few ideas."
"Let's talk," Angela said. Her tone of voice instantly shut down his desire.
"About what?" he asked, sitting down on the couch with her.
"I really want to adopt Sam. It's not sitting right with me that she's not mine anymore. I hope that doesn't come off as disrespectful to Marie because I would never want to diminish what she means to both of you."
"I understand, Angela. Do you know how hard it is to see Michael reconnecting with Jonathan? I'm happy for them, but I was used to the kid being mine, too."
"We get to share the next one with each other," she said.
"I can't wait for the baby to arrive, but we've already been parenting our children together for a while."
"Yeah. I just wish it were legal."
"It's up to Sam whether she wants to be adopted. She's old enough now to decide. I'm all for it."
"Thank you, Tony."
"Is that all you wanted to discuss?"
"I figured it would take longer to talk you into it. But we could watch Singing in the Rain instead."
"Ooh, I love that movie. Popcorn?" he offered. Angela was fast asleep with her head on his lap by the end of the movie. He turned off the TV and stroked her hair a few times. "Wake up, sweetheart. Let's go to bed."
"Good morning," she mumbled.
"No, it's only eleven," he estimated.
"What were those ideas you had?" she asked, pushing herself up.
"You're too tired. Let's go to bed."
"You promised," she pouted. "Don't you want me?" Her lip quivered as her eyes filled with tears. Her hair was flat on one side and messily puffed up on the other side in a way that Tony found endearing.
"Of course I do, honey," he said, glancing around to make sure all the windows were covered.
She suddenly grabbed him by the collar and stuck her nose into his jugular notch, inhaling deeply. "I'm so horny," she said against his neck. "I need you to touch me." He responded by pulling her into his lap and groping her over her clothes. "No, touch me" she said, taking his hand and sliding it under her shirt. He didn't realize she had unhooked her bra until the weight of a bare breast was resting in his palm. "Touch me. Please. Touch me everywhere," she begged. Finally, he seemed to understand, lifting her up and laying a blanket onto the couch before he began stripping her clothes off.
"Do you feel better?" he asked, resting his cheek on her inner thigh as she came down from her peak. "Or do you want seconds?"
"If you want to keep going, I won't stop you," she said, rubbing one foot over his strong back.
"Don't fall asleep," he teased, preparing to resume his efforts.
"I wasn't asleep. I was just enjoying it. Ooh, yeah, right there." She dug her fingernails into his head, and he made a mental note to replace the vibrator that had been ruined by a leaking battery.
"Is it my turn yet?" he asked after he brought her to the height of pleasure again.
She knelt on the cushions facing the back of the couch and turned to look over her shoulder. "Do me," she told him.
"What a glorious feeling!" he said as he found his place behind her. He caressed her belly, wondering if she was going to be this amorous throughout her second trimester, like Marie had been. It was his favorite stage, with her body changing and growing, but the baby not yet taking over her mother's abdomen completely.
Saturday, December 13, 1986
Tony and Angela were still enjoying the afterglow of their morning lovemaking when the front door slammed. She put on a nightgown and robe, while he hustled into the shower.
"I'm home!" Sam called. She sat on the couch, and something stuck out from between the cushions. "A bra?" she said, pulling it out and looking at it in confusion.
"Oh good. I must have dropped that when I was doing laundry," Angela said, snatching the garment away. "How is Bonnie?
"Not smart enough for Trivial Pursuit Junior, believe it or not."
"That's alarming," Angela said. "Your dad and I want to talk to you about something later this morning."
"Wait, there's something I want to ask you, before he comes down."
"What is it, honey?"
"Why doesn't he want you to adopt me?"
"Oh, Sam. That's what we wanted to talk to you about. He wants you to decide."
"I want you to be my mom. My school already thinks you are."
"What? Why? Oh, never mind. I'm changing my last name this week, and as soon as that goes through, I'll get the adoption process started."
"Thanks, Angela."
"I thought you were going to keep calling me 'Mom.'"
"I was thinking, maybe I'll call you Angela until it's official."
"Whatever you want to do, sweetie. I love you."
"I love you, too, M- Angela."
Monday, December 15, 1986
"This is a great space and the perfect location. It's just fifty percent larger than I need," Angela told the commercial real estate agent.
"Think about expansion. You don't want to move in a year or two, do you?"
"No, but—"
"Look, I'm showing the unit to someone else in a couple of minutes. If he doesn't take it on the spot, I'll be surprised."
"Let's go downstairs and get some lunch," Tony suggested. She got irritable very quickly when her blood sugar was low.
"It's just too big," she said after consuming half a sandwich. "It won't just cost more to lease. It'll cost more to heat and furnish, too."
"What about bringing in a partner?" he asked.
"I still have no idea how I'm going to find the right person. I could teach anyone the advertising business, but they have to come with creative talent."
"Excuse me," a man interrupted. "Are you Angela Bower?"
"Yes," she answered.
"I shouldn't be talking to you, but I couldn't help overhearing. Were you interested in the office suite on the eighteenth floor?"
"Yes, but it's not right for me. I'm sorry. Do we know each other?"
"No, you don't know me, but I know you. My ex-girlfriend, Shirley, was obsessed with finding you until the feds gave her a good scare."
Tony jumped up to guard his wife. "Are you stalking her?" he asked menacingly.
"No, this was a total coincidence. Jack Ballantine," he introduced himself. "You're Tony Micelli."
"Uh huh," Tony responded. The guy wasn't helping his case.
"I was an art director for Leo Burnett for seven years," Jack said, peeking around Tony.
"Pull up a chair, Jack," Angela said, pushing Tony out of the way. He reluctantly went back to his seat after moving a chair from the next table. "What do you know about the office for lease?" she asked.
"I looked at it earlier, but it was way more than I needed. See, I just came into some money. My grandfather passed away, and he wanted me to quit my job because I was so unhappy working for a big agency. I could live a life of leisure, but I love my career too much. I was thinking about setting up shop on my own."
Over the next half hour, Jack shared his life story, including how he got wrapped up in Shirley Grant's madness. "We broke up right after we were questioned," he said. "I haven't had any contact with her since then." In exchange, Angela gave a guarded account of their time in Mesa and their return to Connecticut.
"Do you have a business plan?" she finally asked. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." She pulled a portfolio out and handed Jack a thick, stapled stack of papers.
"I do," he answered, bringing a bound folder out of his bag. It was unlike anything Angela had ever seen. "I didn't know how to write a business plan, so I did a storyboard," he explained.
"It's a comic book," Tony muttered.
"It's actually very good. It's just not in the standard format," she said, flipping through the pages. "We could team up," she suggested.
"Why don't you want to go out on your own?" he asked. "You know how to run an agency."
"For personal reasons, I would like to have flexibility to take some time off next year. I'd like to have a partner who stays more involved.
"You're pregnant," Jack said.
"Is it that obvious?" Angela asked anxiously. "I didn't think I was really showing yet."
"You look different than the pictures I've seen, but you also keep touching your stomach," he said. "It's a dead giveaway."
"Oh." No wonder she couldn't get hired.
"But that doesn't mean I don't want to work with you."
"What pictures have you seen?" Tony asked.
"There's the one hanging in Rossini's Fish Market."
"Shoot. We were supposed to visit Mrs. Rossini on our way home," Tony said. "I promised she could pinch my cheeks as much as she wanted if she left yours alone," he told Angela.
"Jack, it was nice to meet you. Here's my number. I'd love to see if we can hash something out."
Tony parked the Jeep around the corner from Rossini's Fish Market and helped Angela out of the passenger's side as they continued their conversation. "He stalked you. Us. Do you really think it's safe to do business with someone like that?"
"It wasn't him; it was Shirley. He's a little unusual, but I feel like he's trustworthy. He was very forthcoming about everything that happened."
"You liked his business plan?"
"It was incredible, Tony! He's a very talented art director, and I think he has enough experience to lead a creative team."
"Too bad that office space won't be available," he said, pausing outside the store.
"That's what you think. Commercial vacancies are up in that neighborhood. There's a good chance the real estate agent was bluffing about the other interested party."
"Tony! Angela!" Mrs. Rossini screamed, flying out the door of the fish market to the sidewalk where they were standing. She pinched his cheeks enthusiastically.
"Ugh! You have fish on your hands!" he protested. "Do not touch her!" he warned.
"Hi Mrs. Rossini," Angela said, clasping her hands to her cheeks.
"Let's go up to my apartment," she suggested, leading the way. "Are you hungry?"
"We just ate," Tony said, following her into a stairwell.
"Angela is eating for two!" she protested.
"The baby is still the size of a peach," he said. "Trust me, when Angela is hungry, you'll know."
"Thanks, Tony," Angela grumbled.
"I can't believe you're starting a family. It's so exciting!" Mrs. Rossini gushed. "Who would have thought two people so different could fall in love?"
"We already have a family," Tony protested. "And we're not that different where it counts."
Mrs. Rossini unlocked the apartment door and invited them in. "How are things going with Jonathan's father?"
"Fine. He's really stepping up," he told her. "Sam is starting to accept the situation."
"You bring the kids next time!" Mrs. Rossini insisted. "They grow up so fast, and I missed them last year."
"We will," Angela vowed.
"Mrs. Rossini, there's something else I wanted to tell you," Tony said, taking the lead. "Angela is going to adopt Samantha."
"Why?" Mrs. Rossini asked in shock. "She's not an orphan."
"Because we all want their relationship to be legally recognized, especially if anything were to happen to me," he explained.
"Sam's OK with this?"
"She's excited about it," he said. "We all are."
"Are you still going to raise her Catholic?"
"Honestly, I haven't been very comfortable with the church for a long time, Mrs. Rossini. Angela and I took the kids to a Unitarian Universalist fellowship in Arizona, and it was a better fit. In fact, that's where we got married."
Mrs. Rossini gasped. "You didn't get married before God?"
"Isn't God everywhere?" Angela asked naively.
"Maybe your Unitarian God!" she shrieked. "When it comes to Catholic God, you're living in sin," she judged.
"I don't think God is going to be shocked that I'm not following his rules, Mrs. Rossini. Remember the altar wine and the Little Sisters of Hope?"
"Aren't you worried about going to Hell?" she asked.
"Listen," Angela told Mrs. Rossini. "Tony is the finest man I have ever known. He's decent, caring, loving, and responsible. If God doesn't see that, then maybe God isn't that smart."
Mrs. Rossini made a strangled sound, shocked by the rant.
"Thanks, honey, but I think we need to leave now, before someone smites us," Tony said, tugging her hand.
"Who?" she asked, letting herself be dragged along.
"Any of the little old Italian ladies in this building!" he said, looking over his shoulder. "Oh no, it's Mrs. Napoli!" he yelled in fear.
By the time they got back to their parking space, they were laughing. "I'm sorry for stirring up a hornet's nest. It really wasn't my intention," Angela said, resting against the Jeep.
"You just don't know these people well enough to fear them," Tony said, leaning over her. "The way you defended me, though, it was kind of hot." He kissed her on the cheekbone and lingered over her, remembering how turned on she had been by his scent on Friday night.
She reached into his jacket and clutched the sides of his sweater, keeping him close. "If we leave now, we'll be home an hour before the kids get out of school," she whispered.
"I love the way you think," he told her.