Chapter 9
Mary couldn’t get Manny from the Legal Aid office out of her mind.
He was so handsome with his olive skin and wide, kind eyes.
She could picture his tight curly hair cut close on the sides, chiseled jaw, high cheekbones, and muscled shoulders.
He had a beautiful smile. Perfect teeth.
He’d looked straight into her eyes, not intimidated by her like other guys.
She wished she was going out with him tonight. Unfortunately, she’d made other plans.
“Ugh, I can’t believe I agreed to this!” she said out loud, walking down Stone Street in FiDi. It was Oktoberfest, and downtown was hopping. The bars were decorated for the season and packed with people her age from the big financial companies, all washing down their day and having a good time.
But Mary couldn’t stop and linger because she had a date.
Mary’s mother had set her up with Theresa Molinaro’s son, Ricky.
Mary knew Ricky all too well. He’d gone to St. Joe by-the-Sea with her brother Gabe—the one who’d put his high school exploits behind him and become a priest, forever and ever, amen.
Ricky’s father owned Paisano’s, a huge Italian import business on Staten Island.
Ricky was not in charge of that. Instead, his dad had made him manager of his indoor pickleball facility, The Dink Den.
“Mary, he’s a good boy,” her mother had said on the phone. “And listen, you’ve not brought anyone home in ages. Not since that Irish boy, what’s his . . .”
“Colin.”
“Who hid in the bathroom during Sunday supper because he thought everyone was yelling at him.”
“They were! His family are Islanders fans, I’m sorry.”
“I’m just worried about you. I’m your mother—built to worry. I’m afraid you’re wasting your youth. Please, Mary. It’s just dinner. For me?” Her mom knew how to press her buttons.
Hence, a 7:30 p.m. reservation at Adrienne’s Pizzabar. She’d worked at the office until the last possible billable hour before heading over.
Her heels clicked on the sidewalk as she turned in to the restaurant.
Ricky was sitting at the table by the window, wearing a fitted long-sleeved white T-shirt and a black leather jacket.
He still had a baby face and was drenched in Drakkar.
He was just like every guy Mary grew up with—fun family guys who were not at all her type.
They were her people, but they’d never be her boyfriends.
Bracing herself, Mary took off her tan leather belted coat as she walked up to the table.
“Ricky, hi. Good to see you.” She sat and took a sip of ice water, the cold hitting her teeth.
“Wow. Mary Russo. You look. . . . amazing.” He seemed stunned by her. She was in black crepe wide-leg pants, a red silk shirt, and silver hoop and charm earrings.
“Thanks for coming into the city. I couldn’t get away from the office.”
“No problem. The ferry is still free, baby.” He held his hands out wide.
“All the best things in life are.” She kept her hands in her lap.
Mary settled in with a glass of the house cabernet. And keep ’em coming, her eyes said to the waitress.
Ricky and Mary chatted about the old neighborhood before ordering, but they were interrupted by his gearhead obsession. Every nice car that went by, he had to comment on it.
“That’s a McLaren! I wonder if it’s Aaron Rodgers’s.”
Mary smiled and nodded.
“He was the Jets quarterback for a time . . .”
“Oh, I know.” Mary barely looked up from the menu, bored by cars and sports. He didn’t notice.
Finally, they ordered. Salmon, medium rare, for Mary, chicken parmesan for Ricky, and a side of spicy broccoli rabe to share.
“We could have eaten better at home,” Mary teased. At least Ricky laughed at her joke.
“There’s nothing like our ma’s home-cooked meal. But this place is all right.”
They chatted about their families during the meal. It seemed everyone they knew was getting married and having children, except for Gabe. And them.
About halfway through their entrees, Ricky’s phone rang. He looked at it and set it back down. “It’s my ma.” He rolled his eyes and ignored the call.
Two minutes later it rang again.
“Sorry,” he said to Mary and picked up his phone. He answered it this time.
“I’m at dinner, what?”
“How’s it going?!” Mary could hear Mrs. Molinaro even though she was not on speaker. She gestured to Ricky that she was going to use the ladies’ room.
Before going back to the table, she texted the Crew.
“Please stop me if my mother ever sets me up again. Nice guy but wow this is boring.”
“Let me guess: not your type, doesn’t understand you, rarely leaves the island?” Dot asked.
“Exactly. It’s almost like my family wants me to date someone exactly like one of my brothers.”
“Want me to call and pretend to be a work emergency? Some bankers with the SEC at their door?” Harper texted back. She loved cooking up an escape route, having needed so many of her own after dates gone wrong.
“No thanks. It’s almost over. But pray for me.” Dot and Harper both liked the message and said they’d catch up with her later.
Mary went back to Ricky, who was finally off the phone.
“Sorry about that. My ma is a little crazy.”
“Well, maybe all of them are.”
“Especially the Italian ones,” he said.
Mary smiled in agreement. “I know the feeling.” She got the waitress’s attention and ordered a double espresso.
“That won’t keep you up all night?” he asked.
“I always sleep like a baby.”
“I’d be climbing the walls if I had that right now.” And Mary imagined him frantic in the night, checking out all the car websites and chugging milk from the carton.
Finally, a few beats after dessert when Ricky told her about what everyone on the St. Joe’s baseball team ended up doing in life, Mary thought she could politely excuse herself.
“Well, this has been very nice. But I need to get going. I still have some work to do.” Mary got up and started to put on her coat. Ricky sat back in his chair and placed his hands on the armrests.
“Hey now, if we worked out, you might not have to work at all.” He winked at her and gestured widely with both arms. “The Dink Den is packed. And I have expansion plans.”
She tilted her head, raised her eyebrows, and laughed lightly. She leaned over to kiss his cheek.
“I’ll think about it.”
She would not think about it.
THE NEXT DAY Mary got assigned a new case. It was tedious work, going line by line through a client’s bank records looking for any anomalies that their plaintiffs could use against them. Her firm used AI software for the first look, but it was her job to double check.
Feeling the need for a mental break before she dug into the assignment, she went for a lap.
She walked around the 9/11 Memorial, which always reminded her to be grateful for what she had.
She wasn’t born until the year after the attacks, but she grew up learning the stories of so many of her parents’ friends who had died that day.
Firemen and police officers, secretaries, clerks, people from all walks of life and all parts of Staten Island.
The endless waterfall in the footprint of the towers was a perfect tribute to their lives.
Someone had placed a red rose over a loved one’s name.
Mary leaned onto the ledge, said a prayer for the departed, and looked into the water.
She thought about what she was doing with her life.
She had a good job, but was it going to be meaningful enough, working in corporate law?
She started back toward the office but took a detour to walk by the Legal Aid office where she’d met Manny. She thought she’d stop and flirt, while finding out more about volunteering to help foster kids. Two nonexclusive, noncompeting positive things.
She was wearing a red pantsuit and black patent leather block heels. The day was sunny and warm, so she carried her coat over her arm. Her black hair hung loose down her back, and several appreciative glances came her way.
Outside of Legal Aid, she knocked on the door and gently opened it. A bell rang. There was no one at the front desk, and the office was quiet.
“Hello?” She craned her head to see if anyone was around.
“Be right there.” She hoped it was Manny.
Mary looked at the bulletin board with notices for children advocates.
She’d heard of these volunteer opportunities.
It was where you could provide legal aid, helping families know their rights, especially when child services was involved.
Starting there could lead to representing parents or children in court as part of her pro bono commitments to the firm.
“You’re back!” Manny came into the front office, smiling. “It’s great to see you again. Mary, right?” They shook hands again. She hoped he felt the same spark that she did, the one that had been missing from her date with Ricky.
“I’ve been thinking about making my law degree worth something.”
“That’s amazing. Let me get Rafael—he organizes all the volunteers.”
Mary felt her cheeks flush, and she did a little turn in her heels. She imagined taking him home for Sunday supper. She was getting ahead of herself, but she had a feeling he’d fit in perfectly.
Manny returned a few minutes later with a slim man in a stylish and well-cut navy suit and a white shirt unbuttoned at the collar.
“Mary, meet our volunteer coordinator, and my boyfriend, Rafael Hernandez.”
“Hello, Mary. It’s nice to meet you. I love your outfit.” Rafael shook her hand and gave her suit the once-over. “Red is your color.”
Boyfriend?! Mary felt mortified. So, that wasn’t a spark she’d felt. That had just been a handshake. She’d cut herself off from serious dating for so long that her romantic instincts were way off.
“Oh, thank you,” she stammered, trying to recover her composure and praying Manny didn’t realize the mistake she’d made. “I’d love to do this—but I’ve just got a text and need to get back to my office. Can I come by another time?”
“Anytime. You’d be a great addition, and we could use you.”
“Great. Great. Okay, um, bye. And thanks.” She hustled out of the office, face now red with embarrassment.
She rushed back to the office, head down, feeling low.
Why did she keep stepping on the dating rake and hitting herself in the face?