Chapter 3 #3
“Thank you. I have only been mayor for four years, but I think we’ve done a lot of work in that time to foster growth and create community.” He paused, shook his head. “And now I sound like I am giving a press conference. You should eat, by the way.” He pointed to the fish.
“I’m actually not sure how hungry I am.” Lora slid the plate closer and stared down at it.
She theoretically understood that she was meant to remove the outer layer of fish skin and cut off chunks of meat, but the execution was not happening.
She glanced at the fish’s hollow eye and the tiny teeth jutting up in a micro-underbite.
Poor guy probably woke up in a good mood too.
“It doesn’t sound like any press conference I’ve heard before. You seem very passionate.”
“I guess you can call it passion. I’ll admit it was more rage over what was going on over here that got me the job. Are you sure you don’t need help?” he asked, gesturing at her plate. “I can get you started here in case you do get hungry.”
“No, no. I’ve got it.” Lora picked up the plastic utensils and started poking around the fish. This would probably be easier if she didn’t look at its face. “So, rage?”
“Buon appetito.” Andrea nodded. “The previous mayor stole millions of disaster relief funds from the town and ran off to Tangiers. When I came to visit my parents for Christmas five years ago, there was no mayor, no money, and no one stepping up to do anything about it.” He looked down as he explained, that same lock of dark brown hair falling over his forehead.
“My mom had broken her hip, and their whole street and the sidewalk were practically impassible. I kept picturing her falling again.”
“So you decided to run for mayor to fix all the broken sidewalks? That’s certainly one way to get it done.”
“Yeah, well, I had a background in finance and a talent for unjustified optimism, so I thought I might be good at it. No, but honestly, I’d always heard people in politics say that running a town is not so different from running a business. So, I thought, why not me?”
“Well, your family must be really happy. Are they here?” She nodded toward the crowd.
“They were here earlier, but my dad wasn’t feeling great. They’re a little older. There are ten years between me and my brother and only one year between him and my sister, so I think they thought they were kind of done with kids. My mom was forty-two when she had me and my dad was fifty.”
“Surprise!” she said, raising her eyebrows.
“Exactly. Are they happy I am here? It’s a little complicated.
The job situation here in Italy has always been difficult.
Some people, like my parents, believe that the smartest thing to do is to study and eventually work abroad—especially if it’s America or the UK.
I was raised to leave town as soon as possible, get educated, and find a brilliant job that would make me never have to worry about finances.
My sister and my brother did it. I did it too, at least initially.
So, this is quite the change of direction.
They are concerned about my future, I think. ”
“Do they ask you about it?”
“It’s more that they wonder where I wandered off track,” he said, laughing.
“My parents are in that generation that still believes in the American dream that they saw in those old movies. I get lots of comments about going back to ‘real life,’ but I mostly ignore them—not my parents. The comments. Sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you my whole life story. ”
“Don’t apologize, I find it very interesting,” she said, moving a long, thin bone to the side of the plate. “So where was this real life?”
“New York.” His eyes flicked to hers.
Lora paused her utensils. “You lived in the city?”
“West Village.”
She pointed at herself with the fork. “Bushwick.”
“Bushwick! How did you end up there?”
“I moved to the city after my mom died, and I will fully admit it’s because I bought into every New York City stereotype about how magical it would be there.
Where I came from was—not magical. So, I packed my bags and drove up.
I needed a year of residency in the city before I could qualify for cheaper tuition at a state university, so I worked, waited tables at a few places, and rented a micro-studio in Brooklyn.
It may be more of a closet with a microwave in it, to be honest. Then I enrolled at CUNY and ended up staying there for my doctorate too.
It all took me a little bit longer than most people to make it through school, but I did it all on my own.
It feels really good. I love the writing and the research, which I know is weird.
But I want to keep going.” She didn’t say, I need to keep going, though it would have been more accurate.
She’d seen what happened when you weren’t in control of your own future and were forced to stop moving forward.
Growing up, Lora always knew that she was the reason her mom had stopped moving toward her dreams. Pamela never made her feel guilty, but Lora couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if she’d never met Ivo and gotten pregnant.
There was no answer, of course, only a promise to herself to avoid situations like that altogether.
“That’s really amazing, but also, I’m sorry to hear about your mom. She was quite young, I am guessing.”
“She was forty-five, yes. It was breast cancer.”
“I’m so sorry. And you went through that all by yourself.”
“I did. But it’s OK. I took care of her until the end, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything,” she said quickly.
It was her standard statement on the death of her mother, designed to both close the conversation and absolve the other person of the need to demonstrate additional empathy.
After all these years, there was simply nothing new to say.
Hearing familiar laughter, she glanced over at Vilmari touching Nico’s shoulder and grinning.
“I’m glad she’s having fun. I’ve known Vilmari since pretty much my first day in the city.
She and her ex-husband lived in my building. She’s divorced, though. Very divorced.”
“Good to know.” He smiled. “Nico is also very divorced.” His eyes followed hers to Nico whispering something in Vilmari’s ear. She threw her head back and laughed again.
“Imagine that.” She smirked, taking another sip of Spritz.
“So, can I ask why you don’t want to stay in the city now? There are some pretty great universities there.”
“I love New York, don’t get me wrong. It’s—well, you know how it is,” she started, not quite sure how to skip over the fact that her ex-boyfriend Charles Hammersley—the very well-connected lawyer and holder of several offshore accounts in the Caymans that were currently serving as evidence of fraud and money laundering—was very much a presence in New York.
And as much as she did not want to admit it, he and his family’s swirling scandal were currently taking up quite a bit of space in a city of eight and a half million.
She was feeling crowded out. Lora settled on avoiding some of those facts but still telling the truth.
“It’s a magical place, for sure. You’re never bored there and there’s always something new to do.
It’s just that being there is—also complicated.
The postdoc programs in the US don’t offer a reasonable salary and certainly do not offer decent grant money like the one in Zurich.
Plus, I can’t deny the appeal of living in such an incredible European city. It feels surreal.”
She didn’t quite say that Charlie had tried to use his influence to get her a postdoc at Columbia, though she never asked for it.
She also failed to mention that he was still doing “Charlie things” like sending ten dozen roses to her microscopic apartment, having a car sent over to pick her up at work on a rainy day, and spontaneously getting her VIP concert tickets for Hozier in the hopes of pulling her back into his orbit.
She’d refused all of his gifts and services, though it seemed to be increasing his determination.
Lora glanced down at her plate, suddenly over her reluctance to dig in.
Gaining courage, she finally pushed the silvery skin aside, stabbed a piece of fish, and plopped it in her mouth.
She paused, tasting what was quite possibly one of the most amazing things she had ever eaten.
The fish was soft and tasted of the ocean—so fresh that there was a hint of sweetness under the pop of warm garlic and buttery olive oil.
Her eyes grew wide as she looked back down at the plate.
“Good, yes?”
“Oh my god,” she said, taking another bite. Andrea laughed, showing off a gorgeous row of white teeth probably visible from the moon. What had she been saying?
“I’m happy you’re enjoying it. And it seems like those are great reasons to leave the city for a while.”
“I think so.” She smiled, relieved. He really seemed to get it. “I can’t believe we lived there at the same time. Do you think we ever saw each other?”
“No way,” he said.
“You didn’t even hesitate! You went to ‘no way’ immediately. How do you know?” She grinned.
“I can promise you that if I saw you, I would remember.”
“Oh, come on. That’s the worst line I ever heard,” she said, pointing her fork at him. “Please tell me you didn’t think that was going to work.”
“I did not, but if you’ll excuse me, I’m actually going to go throw myself in the sea over there.” He spun around, half getting up from the table. He grinned. “You’re right, that was bad. It started off charming in my head.”
“Didn’t quiiiite make it to the finish line, though,” she said, taking another bite.
“No, not really,” he said, laughing. “Guess it’s been a while.”
“Me too,” she said, swallowing. She let her eyes rest on his and hoped like hell she was looking more sparkly than glassy-eyed. “I’ll let it go this time.”
“That’s very kind.”