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“No, just taking time off to study. My boss encouraged it, actually. He already offered me a job after the bar exam. I’ll probably take a few days to relax right after it and start working the following week.”
“Nena,que bueno, you have a job already,”Mamichimes in.
“Yes, and full-time too. I mean, I’ll officially work as a law clerk because I won’t be a licensed attorney until I pass the bar, but being in the law firm environment will help.”
“What do you do as a law clerk?” Andrew asks.
“I mostly research and write for the lawyers in the firm and help draft court documents, although occasionally I help out the paralegals or secretaries if they need it. Learning what they do is extremely helpful and important because it’s not stuff that I learned in law school. Also, my goal is to work for myself once I have enough experience.”
“I can definitely see you working for yourself,” Stevie adds.
Luci clears her throat and asks, “Do you have any plans to move back home?”
I take a deep breath and adjust my glasses. “Eventually, but not yet. I need more experience, and I don’t want to have to take another bar exam. I want to pass the Iowa bar on my first try, work here for a couple of years, then move back.” I’m also not ready to face reality back in Boston yet, but Luci doesn’t need to know that. “I’ll eventually seek admission to the Massachusetts bar, but I need to wait until I’m licensed for five years. That’s one of the reasons I also chose to work in Immigration Law. I just need to be licensed in one state, and I can practice in any state since it’s federal. If all goes as planned, when I move home, I’ll open my firm there instead of working for someone.”
“Ay si, Nena, I miss you. I’m glad you’ll be moving back. I miss you,”Mamichimes in and extends her hand in front of my father, grabbing hold of mine.
CHAPTER 13
The Market
MARIALENA
September 2012
DELUCA’S MARKET HAS ALWAYSbeen one of my favorite markets because it has a great selection of unique imported and gourmet foods. After the day I had, all I want is some cheese and wine, and it’s the perfect spot to get everything I want to indulge in after a long day at the office. The market has been a staple in the Beacon Hill neighborhood of Boston for years. They offer imported products from Italy, a selection of Italian cheeses, salumi, and wines.
With a block of Asiago cheese,soppressata, and gourmet crackers in my basket, I head over to the wine section to find the perfect bottle. I’m in search of a Barolo or Sangiovese, both smooth, red wines, and the perfect end to my long day.
As I browse the red wines, I hear, “Lena, what are you doing here?” I stiffen at the sound of his voice, which shocks me—unexpected yet so familiar. Disbelief is prominent in his words.
My eyes land on Massimo, and suddenly my chest feels tight. His black hair is still unruly, but it’s now peppered with grays along the sides. He’s aged like a fine wine in the nine years since I last saw him, and all I want is to drink him in.
I lift my eyes to his. Although words fail me, I search his dark brown hues. They’re wild, filled with anger and hurt, which doesn’t surprise me. The last time we looked into each other’s eyes, I was kissing him goodbye, except he didn’t know it would be the last time he saw me.
Seeing him again after so long confirms everything I’ve felt over the past nine years—I love him. I’m a fool for abandoning him. I crushed my soul for him and can only hope he’ll understand why. It was always about him. For him. Because of him.
Right now, the wildfire burns in his eyes, and he’s unreadable. Will he understand my truth, or will revealing my darkest secret be a nail in my coffin?
This encounter was inevitable, but today was not when I expected it to happen. For all the pep talks I gave myself, I am still not ready to face him. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, considering I knew this day would come.
“Lena, what the fuck? How long have you been back?” His words snap me out of my trance.
Massimo’s tone is short. There are no indicators of understanding or forgiveness when he speaks. Instead, anger and bitterness ooze from his words. “A few weeks,” I say in a low voice, finding it hard to speak, despite having plenty of explaining to do.
My voice is tight in my throat, and I feel lightheaded. I reach for the shelf to steady myself. Everything is spinning, and I can’t control the force of my emotions churning within.
“Were you planning on coming to see me?” he asks in a softer tone, his eyes still boring into mine, pleading for me to say something, anything.
With the back of my right hand, I adjust my glasses. “I, um…” Words elude me, and I’m unable to complete a sentence. Seeing him after so much time has impacted me in a way I didn’t expect. No matter how many times I imagined this day and what I would say, nothing could prepare me for this moment.
For looking the man I love in the eye.
For the heaviness in my heart.
For the words that would have to tumble from my lips.
“Lena, just answer the question,” he retorts, irritation in his voice as he takes a step closer to me.
