A/N: This chapter takes place during You Can Go Home Again Chapter 22: Spring Break

Chapter One: Second Honeymoon I

Saturday, March 14, 1987

Tony held his wife's hand through the takeoff and ascent, thankful that she wasn't dealing with morning sickness like on their last flight. Once they had reached cruising altitude, the engines quieted. He folded the USA Today he'd picked up in the terminal and read aloud. "Top Ten Baby Names of 1986." In his seatback pocket, he had found a short pencil that needed to be sharpened soon. It would come in handy.

Angela groaned. They had promised to figure out a moniker for their baby by the end of the trip, but she wasn't looking forward to the decision process. "I don't want her to have the same name as all her classmates."

"Let's just see what they are," he replied. He didn't necessarily disagree. As a boy, he and the other Anthonys had differentiated themselves with an initial or a nickname. Their daughter deserved something a bit less common. "One, Jessica."

"Obviously not," Angela scoffed. She would never name her child after herself or use one of her aliases. "No Jessica or Ellen or Angela or Catherine."

"Ingrid?" he teased, crossing out the most popular name on the list and jotting down the other rejected options.

"Uh uh."

"Alright. Two, Ashley?"

"No, I don't want it to start with an A. What if she's shy and has to be first all the time?"

"That eliminates Amanda," he said, striking two entries. "Four is Jennifer."

Angela shook her head again. "That was Sam's name. I can't imagine giving it to another child."

"Five, Sarah. Too common?" Tony tilted his head expectantly.

"Yeah."

"Stephanie is sixth."

"Hmm, 'Samantha and Stephanie'," she tested. "Stephanie Micelli isn't bad."

"I don't like it," Tony said. He didn't have a justification. It simply didn't feel right.

"OK," Angela agreed.

"Seven is Nicole," he revealed. She gasped, the sudden rush of emotion taking her by surprise. "For Nick?" he asked tentatively. A slow, thoughtful nod confirmed the sentiment.

"It would be a good way for us to honor him, don't you think?" she asked.

"Yeah, he would love that." He circled the name and continued on. "Eight is Brittany."

"Too many ways to spell it," she responded.

"Nine is Heather, so I'm guessing that's out." Tony didn't think Jonathan or his father would appreciate the choice, even if Angela was in favor. She squeezed her eyes shut and stuck her tongue out, and he wrote x's all over the name.

"Ten, Elizabeth."

"Like my mother's dog? No," she laughed.

"Good point. So, from that list, Nicole is a maybe?"

"It would be a perfect middle name. I do like that it's meaningful, but we should find a first name that's only associated with good things."

She pulled out her tray table and opened the book Isabel had regifted her. The Fergusons had chosen names for each sex even before their wedding but weren't sharing yet. Isabel confided in Angela and Wendy that she was carrying a boy.

The baby name book was arranged by gender and category, with an alphabetical index. She scanned over the table of contents, looking for an entry point. "Mythology, geography, religion, nature, occupation…I don't know."

"Geography? What's with that?" Tony asked.

She flipped to the first page of the section. "Adelaide, America, Arizona—"

He interrupted. "Arizona is meaningful. But no A-names, right?"

"Brooklyn?" she tested, holding her place while she gauged his reaction. He shook his head sadly. Perhaps Samantha could have been a Brooklyn. It wasn't right for his youngest. "It's OK. I get it," she said.

"Is Sedona on the list?" he asked. "That was our first family vacation. Kind of."

"No, it's not here" she said, flipping the page and writing it in the margin by the S-names.

By the time they deplaned, the Micellis had a handful of potential names. Several hundred names were crossed out one-by-one and whole sections had been eliminated. They agreed to put the project aside once the crankiness set in.


Sunday, March 15, 1987

"Good morning! This is your eight am wake up call."

"We're up, thanks" Tony said, setting the phone back in place. They hadn't stayed up late on their first night at the resort, instead returning to their suite after a romantic post-dinner stroll and letting nature take its course. "You going to water aerobics?" he asked Angela.

"I should." The baby wasn't making workouts easy. She couldn't breathe as freely now, and the additional weight was beginning to throw her off balance more than usual. In the pool, she expected to feel safe and supported.

"And we'll check out the nude beach afterwards?" he prompted eagerly.

"How about after lunch? I want to stay out of the sun during midday."

"Deal. I think I'll go for a run while it's still cool." He hopped out of bed and opened a drawer, quickly dressing in his shorts and a tank top. "You need anything before I head out?" he asked, putting his socks and sneakers on in the chair facing the bed. Their rings had been stashed in the safe the night before.

"No, I'll get in the shower in a minute," she said.

"Alright, sweetheart. I love you," he reminded her with a soft kiss on the mouth. Once the door locked behind him, she got up and deadbolted it. The baby name book on the dresser caught her attention.

"Luna is out," she remembered. It took only a few seconds to locate the name and draw a careful line through it. Perhaps something else in the Celestial category. Not Aster. It was a small leap to being called Ass-Turd for a decade.


Tony took an out-and-back route, reversing directions when his Casio went off after twenty minutes. He checked the time and made an extra loop by the pool just in time to see Angela descend the steps of the pool, long pale legs contrasting against her emerald-green two-piece. An older woman called to her and she turned around, accepting an offer to spread sunblock over her upper back and shoulders. She held her palm out for another squirt and rubbed the white liquid on her neck, chest, and cleavage.

"Could I help you, sir?" a young male hotel employee asked.

Tony realized he was staring. "Just looking for my wife," he said.

"I think the blonde is taken," the young man chuckled, urging him to move along. "Best of luck to you."

Back in the suite, Tony peeled off his sweaty garments and looked in the full-length mirror. His undercarriage was decidedly unkempt. "Maybe just a trim," he said to himself. He picked up a manicure kit and began hacking the coarse, damp hair along the crease of his leg. He put down the scissors and studied his work. The legs looked neater, but the trim made his bush stand out even more. He pulled the hair through his fingers like a barber and clipped off about half an inch. The cut was uneven, but his manhood was less obscured. He felt an adolescent burst of pride.

"Let's keep going," he told his trusty nail scissors. Another half inch gone, and the goods were looking even better. He decided to clear around the base with his electric razor. By the time he finished, there was a short but even triangular pelt in place of the wild bush he'd sported that morning. He cleaned up the trimmings and started the shower.

Angela felt energized but starving after her workout in the pool. She ordered a large protein shake with a banana from the snack bar and returned to her suite. The shower was running, so she took off her swimsuit, quickly rinsed it in the sink, and hung it from a hook. Then she unfurled her pool towel on the bed and laid across it, sipping her shake.

Tony walked out with a bath towel slung around his hips, and she coyly grabbed the corner of her towel with one hand, barely covering her breasts while her knee curled higher, obscuring her privates. "Sexy," he said of the spontaneous pose. "I saw you out there by the pool. You were breathtaking," he said, stepping closer.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," she said. "Did you trim?" she asked, sitting up and inspecting his lower abs. She put her drink on the nightstand. The fingertips of both her hands, still cold from the shake, drifted along his skin, just above his towel.

"Mmm-hmmm," he confirmed, letting out a low groan as she pressed her cold lips below his navel. "Do you wanna see?"

"See, touch, taste," she said seductively. "May I?"

"Please!" he cried out. What followed was a round of extremely attentive oral stimulation, her tongue alternating warm and cold as it swirled around him. Afterward, he flopped on the bed, boneless and still thrumming with pleasure.

"I wish you'd warned me," she said mirthfully. "I'm the shaggy one now."

"You're perfect," he said dreamily.

Around two in the afternoon, the pair slathered each other in sunblock and packed a beach bag. Angela wore a white bikini with a matching mesh cover up. Tony wore blue-and-gold trunks. They slid on their sandals and sunglasses and navigated to the clothing optional beach, a ten-minute walk away.

"I think I'll sit in the shade and read," she told him, once they found the place. There was a couple in their twenties with model-perfect bodies frolicking in the surf at the other end of the small cove. She laid out a sarong on the sand under a buttonwood tree and sat down with her novel.

"Me too," Tony agreed. He pulled his textbook from the tote and pushed down his trunks.

"Seriously?" she asked while he got comfortable on his beach towel.

"Why not?" he asked. "They don't care," he said, gesturing to the younger couple.

For half an hour, they read in companionable silence. Angela acclimated to Tony's nudity, and when the other sunworshippers departed, he upped the ante. "I'm going to swim. Care to come along?"

"Sure," she said. He helped her to her feet and made sure she didn't fall while peeling off her coverup.

"Hold my hand," he requested, leading her into the water. It was comfortably warm, and before they knew it, they were chest deep.

"This is really nice," she admitted. "I feel weightless." His hands skillfully unhooked her top. "Tony, what are you doing?"

"Freeing you," he said.

"I don't want to lose my suit in the water!" she said.

"No?" he asked. "I'll take care of that." He crumpled the stretchy white fabric in one hand and flung it toward the shore. "Oh shit!" he cried when it didn't quite land on the beach.

"Tony!" Angela yelled.

"I'll get it," he promised, half-swimming, half running in the shallows. He confidently rose out of the water and snatched the garment up. "Did you want it back?" he called to her.

"Yes, I want it back," she said.

"I didn't hear you," he said, wading back in to his knees.

"Bring it back!"

"You'll have to come out and get it," he teased her. He wasn't heartless, though. As she angrily tip-toed back toward shore, he waded in up to his waist and waved her top like a flag. She marched right up to him and reached for it, barely cognizant of her exposed breasts. With his goal accomplished, he held the straps for her to slide her arms into and refastened it. "Was that so bad?" he asked.

"I guess not," she admitted. Just then an older, out-of-shape, utterly unclothed couple started for the water and began waving at them.

"Hallo!" the woman called. "Guten tag!"

"Are you American?" the man shouted. Angela averted her eyes.

"Hi there," Tony answered. "We're from New York," he said helpfully. It was specific enough for Europeans, he thought. Angela stood stock still, unnerved by the thought of making acquaintance with the naked foreigners. It didn't occur to her that she was also in a foreign country.

"Helga and I are from Munich," the man said. I am Klaus."

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Tony and this is—"

"Ingrid!" Angela yelped, turning red.

"Norse? We will look past it." Helga laughed. "You are Italian, no?" she asked Tony.

"Yeah," he answered, bemused.

"Where we are from, there are many Italians," Klaus offered. "Their food is super awesome. Is that how you say it?"

"Our grandson is doing an exchange study in Chicago," Helga explained.

"Yes, Italian food is super awesome," Angela agreed.


Monday, March 16, 1987

The tables around the pool were lit with citronella candles. It was a night with no live music, and the resort was generally quieter than it had been during the weekend. A few people were still in the water. The Micellis found a bench close to a light on the edge of the area.

"Fern, Holly, Iris?" Tony read off. They were getting more efficient, at least with the eliminations.

"No," Angela answered for all three.

"Rose, Violet, Willow?"

"You know, I don't think I'm going to like anything in the Botanical section. Heather ruined all of them for me."

"OK, how about the other Nature names?"

"No animals."

"Alright. How do you feel about Meadows and Rivers?"

Angela sighed heavily. "Not my style."

"Mrs. Rossini would be livid if we gave our daughter some hippie name."

"Could we go back to Celestial?"

"You've already said no to every single one of those names," Tony reminded her. He put the book down. "We don't gotta do this right now. Just because Isabel and Paul have their baby's name picked out—"

"Don't yell at me," Angela cried, standing up. A few other guests glanced at her.

"I'm not," Tony said.

"I need to take a walk," she said. "Alone," she insisted when he tried to join her.

He shrugged. Patience was wearing thin on both sides, but they were both too stubborn to give up. He flipped the book open to the next unread section and waited for Angela to return. It didn't take long for him to see that there were entries under Mythology that could have been filed under Celestial. He skipped over Aurora, Andromeda, and the rest of the A's. Then his eye caught Carina. "A constellation of the southern hemisphere…keel of a ship," he read under his breath. The word had an Italian connotation, as well. It meant cute or dear, which was perfect for a baby.

Just above Carina was Callisto. "Most beautiful…Artemis transformed her into a bear…Zeus transformed her and her son Arcas into Ursa Major and Ursa Minor." His heart clenched. He and Angela had gazed up at the big dipper on their first real date. Stargazing. Was that why she was so intent on finding a Celestial name? His wife was persistent, fearless, formidable…a mama bear. He closed the book on one finger and started to look for her.

"Angela!" She was too far away to hear him but he recognized her profile, sitting in the sand on a dark stretch of beach. He broke into a run. "Angela!" She didn't answer, even when he sat down in the sand beside her. She was looking up at the sky, tears running down her cheeks.

"I still remember what you said, Tony. That night we went stargazing? 'Give me any name you want. I don't care.'"

He finished as she trailed off. "'You're you, and you're the one I want to be with.' I remember it, too, sweetheart." He put his free arm around her and she leaned against him.

"Whatever we name her, she'll be whoever she's meant to be, right?" she asked.

"Right." He inhaled sharply. "Can I give you one more option before we let it go?" he asked.

"One more," she said with a laugh and a sniffle.

"Callista," he said, holding his breath.

"Callista? That's pretty. What does it mean?" Angela asked.

"It's a variation on the mythological beauty who was turned into a bear and sent to the sky as Ursa Major." He let the book go and pointed up at the Big Dipper.

"Ursa Major," she echoed. "Hmmm. Callista Nicole?"

"Callista Nicole Micelli," Tony confirmed.

"Oh! She's moving!" Angela put her husband's hands on her belly and her own hands on the back of his neck. "Feel?" she asked.

He nodded, a lump in his throat. They clung together in a tangle of emotions until the heat of their kisses dried their tears. Improbably, she ended up astride him, her knees digging into the soft sand on either side, their tongues sweeping against each other as he involuntarily rutted against her.

"This beach is closed after eleven," a voice called. "You kids will have to take it somewhere else."

"Sorry," Angela called, struggling to her feet.

"Yeah, we didn't mean to break the rules," Tony said.

"Oh, I thought you were teenagers," the security guard said, embarrassed to have broken up a makeout session between two adults, one of whom was visibly pregnant. "Have a good night," he said, walking briskly away.

"We should go back to our room," Angela said, holding back a giggle.

"I need a minute," Tony begged.

"I'm ready to go now," she whined.

"Yeah, I'm ready to go, too. That's why I need a minute," he said. He thought of Klaus' naked body, then picked up the baby name book and glanced at the adorable infant on the cover. "Let's go," he said, holding the book in front of him.