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ii. Sound

Andy’s parents arrive shortly after Michael forces his way through some terrible song she’s never heard but doesn’t care to ever hear again. She’s feeling angry and tired and wishing she were home with her cats. But even if she didn’t throw this party, she is head of the Party Planning Committee and she should be here. Hunger has gotten the best of her and she’s picking at a dry, tasteless hamburger bun when Andy is suddenly leaping to his feet and rushing towards a couple that could only be his parents.

She’s only met the parents of a boyfriend one time in her life. In her senior year of high school she had attended several church functions with Ted Ashley, a toothy clarinet player with dreams about becoming an ophthalmologist. Their fathers had known each other from work and Angela had been forced to sit through dinner after dinner with Ted’s boisterous, dim-witted father and overly made-up mother. She had called the relationship off after two chaste pecks on her doorstep.

And now, inexplicably, she is shaking the hands of Andrew and Ellen Bernard. They smile and talk and laugh just like Andy does and Angela imagines she might have liked them if they didn’t keep discussing “the Cape” and asking her if she’s ever been on a bay-liner. She realizes rather quickly that there isn’t much to them beneath the money and decides that at least Andy has some personality.

She quickly revokes the thought when Andy tugs at her arm in hopes of getting her onto the dance floor for the electric slide. She yanks her hand away with a scowl and watches as Ellen Bernard’s beaming smile noticeably dims.

“Will you excuse me? I have to…” she trails off mid-excuse, gesturing vaguely towards the building and stepping away carefully. She walks away from them with no clear destination, just needing space and air. She walks past the refreshments and the moon bounce and finds herself on the edge of the parking lot. She glances back towards Andy and sees that the Bernard parents are being shuffled around the tables and introduced to an unenthusiastic staff.

She closes her eyes for a moment, bringing a hand up to clutch at the crucifix hanging around her neck. Breathing deeply, she pulls away from the moment and simply lets the soft breeze of the early spring evening wash over her. She likes to find time every day to appreciate the beauty of God’s world. She can hear her co-workers talking and laughing and the band has kicked into high gear, but things feel more peaceful on this quiet edge of the parking lot.

“Angela?” His voice comes from beside her, startling her out of her quiet reverie. Her eyes snap open and she turns towards the sound. Dwight is leaning against his car a few feet away, cutting up an apple with his Swiss Army knife. He looks surprised to see her so far away from the festivities. He knows her well enough to understand that even if she hated a party, she would stay until the last piece of cake was covered in Saran wrap. Or, he had known her well enough to understand that. It has been months since they have spoken about anything other than work.

“Oh.” The word comes out of her clumsily, hanging in the air between them for several long moments before finally dropping to the asphalt with a thud. She clings tighter to her necklace and finally meets his eye. He looks down at her seriously, his expression unreadable.

“I’m sorry Michael told Phyllis to plan this party. A cake and a card probably would have been good enough for Toby,” he says. The comment is halfway between an insult and a reassurance. He seems to realize this and pulls a face, clearly dissatisfied with the words he’s chosen. Angela studies him, watching how he holds the knife and apple still in his hands and focuses completely on her. He always does that. Stares at whoever he is talking to with rapt attention.

“She had a much larger budget than the Party Planning Committee usually gets,” she finds herself saying. It is boring; work-related. She doesn’t know what else to say to him. He nods with understanding and looks down for a moment to work the knife through the soft flesh of the apple.

“Mose liked the Ferris wheel. He’d never been on one before,” he says without meeting her eye. Angela stares at his hands working the knife expertly and feels something very small wake up inside of her.

“I’m glad for him. Did he get that game he wanted for Christmas?” She startles herself with the sudden transition into unknown conversational territory. She’s thought about Mose a few times over the last several months. She has even prayed for him to find peace at night. He is sweet and simple and he’s always treated Angela with kindness. Suddenly, she is incredibly curious about his well-being. There is a long, billowing silence as Dwight considers her question. Finally, he looks at her with dark, serious eyes.

“Yes, he did. Our Aunt Ingrid sent it to him. Battleship,” he says quietly. She nods simply, not betraying anything in her expression. She honestly doesn’t know what there is to betray. She opens her mouth to speak again or possibly to excuse herself to go back to the party, when a sudden voice breaks through the quiet.

“Angela! There you are! We’re about to cut the cake!” Andy shouts as he jogs towards her, his tie flapping over his shoulder and his hair shining in the fast-fading sun. He slows to a halt and stars at her with naked hopefulness. She takes a step towards him, glancing over her shoulder at Dwight. Andy notices and his gaze travels to where Dwight stands.

“Oh hey, Dwight. Tuna was looking for you. He said something about the band refusing to play any Van Halen song released when David Lee Roth was the singer…” Andy says, his voice friendly and playful. Dwight’s face hardens comically.

“Are they idiots?” he asks. He quickly clasps his knife shut and walks past Angela and back towards the dance floor, clearly on the war path. Angela watches his retreating back and can see that his muscles are pulled taut in frustration. She knows Jim is playing a joke on him. She always knows but she never says.

“Coming?” Andy asks, extending his hand to her. She turns her attention back to him and his uncomplicated smile. He isn’t perfect but she makes sure God knows he is trying. She takes his hand and they walk back across the parking lot together.

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