Home | Articles | Bloopers | Episode Guide | Fan Fiction | FAQ | Forums | Gallery | Links | Transcripts
WTB?R Home • WTB?R Archives
Love Remains. . . [ - ]
by OakHillsDrive
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story

- Text Size +

(In case you missed the first part of the story, catch up here:  http://archives.wtbr.com/viewstory.php?sid=1144&chapter=15          

 

It was all so much like a movie.  After Jonathan left to go home, Tony and Angela found themselves alone once again in the waiting room.  They stood in silence, but the peace that came with it was wonderful.  It felt a little awkward, trying to find the words, the answers to questions so long buried.  And although there was everything to say and catch up on, the silence for now was enough.  As the seconds turned into minutes, they found themselves walking hand in hand down the hall, gazing up at each other and then down at the floor every few steps.           

Angela smiled as a nervous giggle came to her lips when they entered the elevator.           

“What’s with the grin?”  Tony said taking comfort in her giddiness.           

“This whole thing.  I feel like Meg Ryan at the end of Sleepless in Seattle.  Finally happy to be with the man she. . .”           

Instead of finishing her sentence this time, she let her silence say the rest.  He smiled as the elevator doors closed behind them.   He knew what she wanted to say, but there would be time enough for words.  Right now just the proximity to her was enough.

When they reached his rental car, Tony walked her to the passenger side door and opened it for her.  After helping her into the car, he strolled around the back of the car and popped open the trunk.

 

 

With the trunk door open, Angela had a second to look at herself in the vanity mirror.  Quickly, she ran her fingers through her hair and pinched up her cheeks to restore a little color to them.  The driver side door opened and Tony sat down next to her.  She tried to avoid his gaze for a moment, after now seeing what she looked like, but she didn’t have to.

 

 

“This is for you.”  Tony said, as she turned to see he was holding a single pink rose in his hand.

 

 

“Oh, Tony. . .but when. . .”

 

 

“I had time. . .too much time.” He said with half a smile.

 

 

Softly, she reached up and let her hand fall against his cheek.  She knew what he meant.  As she took the rose from him, Tony turned the key in the ignition and put the car in reverse.  Before he took his foot off the brake, he turned to her and smiled again.

 

 

“So. . . where do we go from here?”

 

Sam placed another bowl in the sink of hot, suddy water.  It was 8AM Pacific time and although breakfast had been over and done with a half hour before, the dishes had had to wait until Sam and Hank had finished cleaning up after Hank Jr’s latest solid food tossing disaster.  They had cleaned oatmeal off walls, bananas off the floor and at one point, Sam had to sit on Hank’s shoulders to reach the last of the lingering orange juice.

“Oh the joys of motherhood.”  Samantha whispered to herself as she scrubbed the bowl and put it in the rinse water.

“You’re telling me.”  From behind her, she felt the strong arms of her husband wrap themselves around her waist.  He leaned down and began kissing a small part of her neck.

“Hank.  If you’re going to stand here, I would appreciate some help.”

“I’m trying to help,” he said lifting her hair to kiss behind her ear.

“I don’t mean that kind of help.”  She said turning to face him, flicking her soapy hands in his direction.

“Hey!”  He exclaimed, blindly reaching for a dish towel and trying to wipe stray bubbles from his cheeks.  “Remember, I’ve already done my two percent for today,” he said pointing to the ceiling.

“I’ll give you two percent.”  From beside the sink, she grabbed a wet dish towel and wrapped it around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

“You’re getting me all wet.”  He said trying to get out from under the dripping towel.

“I thought you wanted to help.”  As she asked the question, she couldn’t help but laugh.  Grabbing him once again, they stood locked in a sweet kiss until Sam felt a tug on the back of her jeans.           

“Jon-ton!”  Sam turned around and saw Little Hank trying to get his parents attention.

“Uncle Jonathan?” Sam asked as she knelt down to talk to her son at almost eye level.

“Yeah, Mom.”  Marie explained as she walked up to the group.  “Uncle Jon wants you to call him.”

“What?”  Hank asked looking for a clue on his daughter’s face.

“That’s what I said, when you two were making out,” Marie said rolling her eyes.  “Your phone buzzed, so I picked it up.  There was a text from Uncle Jon saying he had to talk to you.  That it was super important.”           

“Okay, okay.”  Sam grabbed the cordless handset from the wall and walked into Hank’s office where she could be alone.            

 

With a little trepedation, she dialed her unofficial brother’s number.  Hearing from him so soon worried her.  As it was, she was always the one to call him.  If they spoke or got together it was usually phone calls between she and his wife, Emma, first.  She had spoken to him only a few days before.           

Ring.           

“Sam,” Jonathan said on the other end of the line before Samantha had a chance say hello.

“Jon.  Marie said you called.  Is something wrong?”

 

 

“Actually, yes.  I know you and Hank are planning on coming out here week after next for that visit with your in-laws.  But I think Mom would really appreciate it if you changed your plans.”

 

 

“Oh no.”  Sam said when she realized exactly what he meant.  “When?”  Sam asked as she took a seat at the computer.

 

 

“This morning.  Around ten thirty our time.”

 

 

“Jon. . .,” she paused as she looked at the clock on the wall.  “How’s Angela doing?”

 

 

“Well. . .actually.  That was the other thing I was calling about.”

 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

 

“Well. . . she’s doing surprisingly well.”

 

 

“Are you there with her?  Can I talk to her?”

 

 

“Actually, I left her at the hospital.”

 

 

“Jon?  How could you leave Angela alone at a time like this?”

 

 

“She’s not alone.”

 

 

“Mona’s with her then.  Well, have her give me a call.”

 

 

“Sam, will you let me finish explaining.  She’s with a friend.”

 

 

“Fine.  Who then?”

 

 

“Her other best friend.”

 

 

 

Sam sat for a minute with her hand over her mouth and tried to compose herself as the daydream she’d been having for the last fifteen years began to wash over her again.  Without having to wait for his confirmation, Sam smiled through the tears now streaming down her face.

 

 

“I assume you're going to see him tonight?"

 

"Yes."

 

 

"Well. . .when you do. . .can you please tell my Dad I love him and . . . that it’s about time?”