CHAPTER 8
Maria
On Monday, Maria thought it best to hide out in her office, where she could concentrate in peace. Barney’s stress level about the upcoming trial was escalating, and she didn’t want to become an unwitting target. Closing her door, she jotted notes in preparation for a midmorning meeting with clients, made some phone calls, and responded to e-mails, wanting to get a jump on the week. And yet, despite her desire for efficiency, every now and then she’d catch herself staring out the window, replaying images from the weekend.
Some of her distraction had to do with Colin’s phone call on Sunday night. If friends and magazines spoke the truth, guys didn’t call right away, and most of them never called at all. Then again, everything about Colin verged on the unexpected. After hanging up, she’d examined the photo that she’d taken of him and imagined that she saw in it both the Colin she knew and Colin the stranger. His expression was gentle, but his body was a map of scars and tattoos. Though she’d promised to show Serena, she decided then and there that the photo would be for her eyes only.
“Someone’s in a good mood.”
At the sound, Maria saw Jill in the doorway.
“Oh, hey, Jill. What’s up?”
“I suppose I should be asking you,” she said, entering. “You were definitely lost in your own dreamy little world when I peeked in, and no one does that on Mondays.”
“I had a good weekend.”
“Yeah?” she asked. “By the way you just said it, I’m assuming that it went way better than my depositions last week. This has to be the first time I ever found myself actually praying I could return to the office.”
“That bad?”
“Awful.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“Only if you want to die of boredom. And anyway, I have a conference call in a few minutes. I mainly dropped by to see if you’re doing anything for lunch. I’m dying for some sushi and good company now that I’m back in the saddle.”
“Sounds great.”
Jill adjusted the sleeve of her blouse. “I may be reading this wrong, but I take it that you’re not still mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad at you?”
“Maybe because I ambushed you with the worst blind date in history?”
“Oh, yeah,” Maria said, surprised that she’d nearly forgotten. “That.”
“I’m so sorry,” Jill said. “You can’t imagine how bad I felt all week, especially since I didn’t have the chance to talk to you about it.”
“We talked, remember? And you apologized.”
“Not enough.”
“It’s okay. And actually, it ended up turning out fine.”
“I can’t imagine how.”
“I met someone.”
A couple of beats passed before the answer came to her. “You’re not talking about the guy who changed your tire? The one who was bruised and bleeding and scared you half to death?”
“That’s the one.”
“How’s that even possible?”
“It’s kind of hard to explain.”
Jill smirked. “Uh-oh.”
“What?”
“You’re smiling again.”
“Am I?”
“Yes, you are. And part of me wants to cancel the conference call and just pull up a chair.”
“I can’t. Barney and I are meeting a client in a few minutes.”
“But we’re definitely on for lunch, right? And you’ll fill me in then?”
“Without a doubt.”
Ten minutes later, Serena called on her cell phone. When Maria saw who was on the line, she felt a sudden jolt of concern. Serena never called before ten a.m. Half the time, she wasn’t even awake by ten.
“Serena? Are you okay?”
“Where is it?”
“Where’s what?”
“The photo of Colin. It wasn’t in my e-mail or text.”
Maria blinked. “You’re calling me at work, during work hours, about a photo?”
“I wouldn’t have had to if you’d already sent it. Did it go okay? Tell me you didn’t already run him off.”
“No. As a matter of fact, we’re going out Saturday night.”
“Okay,” Serena said. “The post won’t have as much impact without a photo, though. Of course, I guess I could just use one of you from when you were a kid or whatever if you’re not going to send it…”
“Good-bye, Serena.”
She hung up the phone, only to reach for her cell phone a few minutes later, more out of morbid curiosity than anything.
And there, on Instagram, was her photo. From when she was in middle school. Braces. Acne. Glasses. Gawky. The worst school photo in the history of school photos. “Try not to be jealous, guys, but my sister Maria has a date this Saturday night!”
Maria closed her eyes. She was going to have to kill her sister. No question about it.
But she had to admit, Serena was kind of funny.
Over a plate of assorted sushi and sashimi a couple of hours later, Maria filled Jill in on much of what had happened with Colin, the story sounding unbelievable even to her.
“Wow,” Jill breathed.
“Do you think I’m crazy? Considering his past?”
“Who am I to judge? Look at the blind date we set up. On something as out of the box as this, your best bet is to just keep following your instincts.”
“What if my instincts are wrong?”
“Then at the very least, you got your tire changed. And had a nice date, which I’m hoping will get me totally off the hook for that double-date fiasco.”
Maria smiled. “So the depositions were boring?”
“They were enough to make a monk go crazy, since half the people are perfectly willing to lie under oath and the other half say they can’t remember anything at all. And now that I wasted my time all week, we’ll probably just end up settling. Par for the course, but I can’t say I’m ever going to enjoy it.” She snagged another piece of sushi. “How goes it with Barney?”
“Better,” she said.
“What does that mean?”
“Oh, that’s right—you weren’t here,” Maria started, and she told Jill about getting her tire changed and how it led to being late for the meeting, along with all the work she felt compelled to do in the aftermath. She also recounted the dressing-down Barney gave her, though she omitted the confrontation with Ken.
“Barney will get over it. He’s always tense before trial.”
Yes, but… Maria shifted in her seat. “The thing is, I heard that Barney was going to let me be lead counsel on this case.”
“Where did you hear that?” Jill held her chopsticks at half-mast. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re a brilliant associate—but you’re a little short on experience for Barney to saddle you with that kind of responsibility.”
“Rumors,” Maria said.
“I wouldn’t put much stock in rumors. Barney enjoys the limelight too much, and he has a hard time ceding control—not to mention credit—to even the most senior associates. That’s one of the reasons I transferred to labor and employment. I figured I’d never be able to move up, or even get the courtroom experience I needed.”
“I still can’t believe you were able to transfer departments.”
“Lucky timing. I told you I was in labor and employment for a few years before I started at the firm, right?” When Maria nodded, Jill went on. “At the time, though, I wasn’t sure it was what I really wanted to do, so I took a chance and tried insurance litigation. I worked with Barney for nine months and practically killed myself before I realized it was a dead end. I would have left, but it just so happened that the firm was building up its labor and employment practice and needed me.”
“Unfortunately, I’m kind of stuck if this doesn’t work out. Unless we start doing criminal defense.”
“You could always change firms.”
“That’s not as easy as you might think.”
“You haven’t been looking, have you?”
“Not really. But I’ve been beginning to wonder if I should start.”
Jill scrutinized her as she reached for her glass. “You know you can talk to me, right? About any concerns you have. While I’m not a partner, I do run my own department, which gives me some clout around here.”
“I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now.”
“Hopefully, you’re talking about Colin.”
The mention of his name brought more memories from the weekend, and she changed the subject. “How’s Paul doing?”
“He’s fine. I had to give him the cold shoulder for a couple of days as punishment for the date, but he got over it. We went to Asheville over the weekend for some wine tasting.”
“That sounds fun.”
“It was. Except, of course, there’s no ring yet and the biological clock is still ticking and time is growing short. Pretending that everything is okay hasn’t worked yet, so maybe it’s time to try a new strategy.”
“Like what?”
“I have no idea. If you have any foolproof plans, be sure to let me know.”
“Will do.”
Jill had another piece of sushi. “What do you have lined up this afternoon?”
“Same stuff as usual. There’s a lot of prep work to finish for the trial. While trying to keep up with everything else, of course.”
“Like I said, Barney expects a lot from his associates.”
And Ken expects something else. “It’s a job,” she said.
“Are you sure everything is okay? Even with our lecherous managing partner?”
“Why would you ask?”
“Because you went off to that conference with him, and I’ve known him longer than you have. And remember—I know exactly how he operates.”
“The conference was fine.”
Jill gave her the once-over before finally offering a shrug. “Fair enough,” she said. “The point is, I’m sensing that something else is bothering you.”
Maria cleared her throat, wondering why it suddenly felt as if she were being interrogated.
“There’s really nothing to say,” she answered. “I’m just doing the best job I can.”
The days that followed were too busy for the luxury of daydreaming, with Barney storming into her office every half hour asking her to examine additional details or to make calls, notwithstanding her work on other client matters. She barely had time to leave her desk, and on Wednesday afternoon, while working on a draft of Barney’s opening statement, she failed to notice the way the sunlight began slanting through her windows, or the departures, one by one, of her colleagues. She stared at her MacBook screen with singular concentration until a knock at her office door startled her. She saw the door slowly swing open.
Ken.
With a jolt of panic, she looked through the open doorway; across the hall, Lynn was no longer at her desk. Barney’s office was dark, and she couldn’t hear anyone else in the hallway.
“I noticed that your lights were still on,” he said, stepping into her office. “Do you have a few minutes?”
“I was just finishing up,” she improvised, hearing a trace of uncertainty in her tone. “I must have lost track of time.”
“I’m glad I caught you then,” he said, his voice smooth and controlled. “I wanted to finish the conversation we started last week.”
Maria felt a thud in her chest and began collecting the pages on her desk before slipping them back into their folders. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with him. She swallowed. “Is there any way we could do this tomorrow? I’m already late and I’m supposed to have dinner with my parents tonight.”
“It won’t take long,” he said, ignoring her excuse as he came around her desk. He stood near the window and she noted the sky had darkened beyond the glass. “It might be easier for you this way, since we’re away from prying eyes. There’s no reason for everyone to know what happened with Barney’s clients.”
Not knowing what to say, she stayed quiet.
He glanced out the window, seemingly focused on something in the distance. “How do you like working with Barney?” he finally asked.
“I’m learning a lot from him,” Maria began, choosing her words carefully. “He has great strategic instincts, the clients trust him, and as a colleague, he’s good at explaining his thinking.”
“You respect him, then.”
“Of course.”
“It’s important to work with people that you respect. It’s important that the two of you can work together as a team.” Ken adjusted the venetian blinds, closing them slightly, then returning them to their original position. “Would you consider yourself a team player?”
The question hung in the air before she was able to answer. “I try to be,” she said.
Ken waited a beat before going on. “I spoke to Barney again on Friday about the situation, and I must say that I was a bit surprised at how angry he still was over what happened. That’s why I asked you about being a team player. Because I went to bat for you in that meeting, and I think I’ve been able to defuse the situation. I wanted to make sure I was doing the right thing.”
Maria swallowed, wondering why Barney hadn’t talked to her himself if he was still so upset. “Thank you,” she finally murmured.
He turned from the window and took a step toward her. “I did it because I want you to have a long and successful tenure at the firm. You’re going to need someone who’s able to advocate for you in these kinds of situations, and I’m here to help you when I can.” By then, he was standing over her, and she felt him place a hand on her shoulder. Kind of. His fingertips skimmed the area below her collarbone. “You should consider me a friend, albeit a friend in a high place.”
Recoiling from his touch, she suddenly knew that all of this—the Monday cold shoulder, the dressing-down on Thursday, and now this you and me against the world show—was simply part of his latest plan to get her in bed, and she wondered why she hadn’t been able to see it coming.
“We should go to lunch tomorrow,” he said, his fingertips still brushing the exposed skin above her scoop-necked shirt. “We can talk about other ways that I can help you navigate the ins and outs of the office, especially if you hope to become a partner one day. I think you and I will be able to work together really well. Don’t you think so, Maria?”
It was the sound of her name that brought her back, his words finally registering. Not in this lifetime, she suddenly thought. “I can’t go to lunch tomorrow,” she said, trying to hold her voice steady. “I already have plans.”
A flash of annoyance crossed his face. “With Jill?”
That was usually the case, and Ken of course knew that. No doubt he’d suggest that she change the plan. For her own good.
“Actually, I’m going to lunch with my boyfriend.”
She felt his hand slowly slip off her shoulder. “You have a boyfriend?”
“I told you about Colin, didn’t I? When we were at the conference?”
“No,” he answered. “You didn’t mention him.”
Sensing her chance, Maria rose from her seat and stepped away, continuing to collect documents, stuffing them into files, not caring where they ended up. She could sort them out later. “That’s strange,” she remarked. “I thought I did.”
She could tell by his plastic smile that he was trying to decide whether or not to believe her. “Tell me about him,” he said.
“He’s an MMA fighter,” she answered. “You know those guys in the cage? I think it’s crazy, but he’s really into it. He works out and trains for hours every day and he loves to fight, so I kind of feel like I have to support him.”
She could imagine the wheels in his mind continuing to turn as she hoisted her bag over her shoulder. “While I can’t meet for lunch, do you want to talk in your office tomorrow? I’m sure I can clear part of my morning or afternoon.” When there are others around, she didn’t bother adding.
“I’m not sure that’s necessary.”
“Maybe I should talk to Barney?”
He shook his head, the movement almost imperceptible. “It’s probably best to let it go for now.”
Of course you’d say that. Because this whole thing was a ruse and you never talked to Barney at all. “All right. I guess I’ll say good night, then.”
She reached the door, breathing a sigh of relief as she made her escape. The whole boyfriend thing had been inspired, but that card had now been played. It wouldn’t surprise him again; he’d be ready for it. In the long run—or maybe even in the short run—she doubted it would stop Ken’s advances, even if it had been true.
Or became true?
Still reeling from her encounter, she wondered if she wanted it to be true. All she knew for certain was that when Colin had kissed her, she’d felt something electric, and the realization was both exhilarating and frightening—at exactly the same time.
Though she’d been lying when she told Ken that she was having dinner with her parents, she wasn’t in the mood to be alone and found herself driving the familiar roads to the place she’d grown up.
The neighborhood was more blue collar than white, with homes showing signs of deferred maintenance and a few sporting FOR SALE signs. Older-model cars and trucks were parked in virtually every driveway. Their neighbors had always been plumbers and carpenters, clerical workers and secretaries. It was the kind of community where kids played in the front yards and young couples pushed strollers, where people would collect the mail for each other when they were out of town. Though her parents never talked about it, Maria had heard rumors growing up that when her dad had first bought the house, more than a few neighbors living at this end of the block had been upset. The Sanchezes were the first nonwhite family on the street, and people had quietly speculated about declining property values and rising crime, as though everyone who’d been born in Mexico was somehow connected to the drug cartels.
She supposed it was one of the reasons that her dad had always kept the yard immaculate and the bushes trimmed; he repainted the exterior in the same color every fifth year, always parked his cars in the garage instead of the driveway, and kept an American flag mounted on a pole on the front porch. He decorated the house for both Halloween and Christmas and in their first years would hand out restaurant coupons to any neighbor who happened to be outside, allowing them to eat at half price. Her mom regularly made trays of food on the weekend afternoons when she wasn’t at the restaurant—burritos and enchiladas, tacos or carnitas—which she would serve to any of the kids who were out playing kickball or soccer. Little by little, they’d been accepted in the neighborhood. Since then, most of the surrounding homes had been sold more than once, and in every instance, her parents showed up to welcome the new owners with a housewarming gift in the hopes of preventing future whispers.
Maria sometimes had trouble imagining how hard it had been, though in school, there’d been more than a couple of years when she’d been the only Mexican in her classroom. Because she’d been a good student, albeit a quiet one, she couldn’t remember feeling the sting of discrimination in the same way her parents had experienced it, but even if she had, her parents would have told her to do what they had done. They would have told her to be herself, to be kind and welcoming to everyone, and they would have warned her that she should never sink to others’ level. And then, she thought with a smile, they would have told her to study.
Unlike Serena, who was still reveling in finally being out from under her parents’ thumbs, Maria enjoyed coming home. She loved the old place: the green and orange walls; the wildly playful ceramic tile in the kitchen; the eclectic furniture her mother had collected over the years; a refrigerator door that was endlessly decorated with photos and information relating to the family, anything that had made Carmen particularly proud. She loved the way her mother hummed whenever she was happy and especially when she was cooking. Growing up, Maria had taken these things for granted, but beginning in college, she could remember a feeling of comfort whenever she pushed through the front door, even after just a few weeks away.
Knowing her parents would be offended if she knocked, she went straight in, moving through the living room and into the kitchen. She set her bag on the counter.
“Mom? Dad? Where are you?” she called out.
As always when at home, she spoke Spanish, the shift from English as simple as breathing and just as unconscious.
“Out here!” she heard her mom answer.
Maria turned toward the back porch, where she saw her mom and dad rising from the table. Happy she was here and leaning in for hugs, they both spoke at once.
“We didn’t know you were coming…”
“What a nice surprise…”
“You look wonderful…”
“You’re so skinny…”
“Are you hungry?”
Maria greeted her mom, then her dad, then her mom again, then her dad a second time. In her parents’ minds, Maria would always be their little girl. And though there’d been a period for a few teenage years when the idea had mortified her—especially when apparent in public—these days she had to admit that she kind of liked it.
“I’m okay. I can grab something later.”
“I’ll make you something,” her mom said decisively, moving toward the refrigerator. Her dad watched her go with obvious appreciation. He had always been a hopeless romantic.
In his midfifties, he was neither thin nor fat. He had little gray in his hair, but Maria noticed a lingering, almost constant weariness, the effect of too much work for too many years. Tonight he seemed even less energetic than usual.
“Making you dinner makes her feel like she’s still important to you,” he said.
“Of course she’s still important to me. Why would she think otherwise?”
“Because you don’t need her the way you once did.”
“I’m not a child.”
“But she’ll always be your mother,” he said firmly. He motioned toward the table on the porch. “Do you want to sit outside and enjoy some wine? Your mom and I were having a glass.”
“I can get it,” she said. “Let me talk to Mom for a bit and I’ll meet you out there.”
While her dad returned to the porch, she retrieved a glass from the cupboard and poured herself some wine before sidling up to her mother. By then, Carmen had loaded up a casserole dish with pot roast, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a biscuit—enough calories for a couple of days, Maria estimated—and was sliding the dish into the oven. For whatever reason—maybe because it was something they never served at the restaurant—her dad loved pot roast and mashed potatoes.
“I’m so glad you came by,” her mom said. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Maria said. She leaned against the counter and took a sip of wine. “I just wanted to surprise you.”
“So you say. But something must have happened,” she said. “You never visit us during the week.”
“That’s why it’s a surprise.”
Carmen evaluated her before crossing over to the counter and retrieving her own wineglass. “Is it your sister?”
“Is what my sister?”
“She didn’t get turned down for the scholarship, did she?”
“You know about that?”
Carmen motioned to a letter tacked up on the refrigerator. “It’s exciting, isn’t it? She told us about it last night. The director will be coming to dinner this Saturday.”
“Really?”
“We wanted to meet him,” she said. “The letter says that she’s one of the semifinalists. But back to your sister. What happened? If it’s not about that, then it must have something to do with a boy. She’s not in trouble, is she?”
Her mom was talking so fast that even Maria had trouble keeping up. “Serena’s fine, as far as I know.”
“Ah.” Her mother nodded. “Good. It’s something at your work, then. You’re the one having problems.”
“Work is… work. Why would you think there’s a problem?”
“Because you came straight here afterwards.”
“So?”
“That’s what you’ve always done whenever something was bothering you. Don’t you remember? Even in college, if you thought you got a bad grade, or when you were having trouble with your roommate your freshman year, or whenever you fought with Luis, you always came here. Mothers remember those kinds of things.”
Huh, she thought. I never realized that. She changed the subject. “I think you worry too much.”
“And I think I know my daughter.”
Maria smiled. “How’s Dad?”
“He’s been quiet since he got home. He had to fire two people this week.”
“What did they do?”
“Same old stuff. One of the dishwashers skipped a couple of shifts, and one of the waiters was letting his friends eat for free. You know how it goes. But it’s still hard on your father. He wants to trust everyone, and he’s always disappointed when people let him down. It wears on him. When he got home today, he took a nap instead of taking Copo out for a walk.”
“Maybe he needs to see a doctor.”
“That’s what we were talking about when you came in.”
“What does he say?”
“He says he’ll go. But you know him. Unless I make the appointment, he’ll never get around to it.”
“Do you want me to call for you?”
“Would you mind?”
“Of course not,” Maria answered. Because of her mom’s language skills, she’d been making appointments ever since she was a young girl. “It’s still Dr. Clark, right?”
Her mom nodded. “And schedule him for a full physical if you can.”
“He’s not going to like that.”
“No, but he needs one. It’s been almost three years.”
“He shouldn’t wait that long. He’s got high blood pressure. And last year, he had those chest pains and he couldn’t work for a week.”
“I know, and you know, but he’s stubborn and he insists his heart is fine. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.” Her mom reached over and opened the oven; satisfied, she put on an oven mitt and pulled out the casserole dish before beginning to load up a plate for Maria.
“That’s plenty,” she said, trying to limit the quantity.
“You need to eat,” her mom insisted, continuing to pile food on the plate while Maria retrieved some utensils. “Let’s go sit with your father.”
Outside at the table, a citronella candle was burning to keep the mosquitoes at bay. The night was as perfect as her dad had promised, with only the slightest breeze and a sky embroidered with stars. Copo sat in her father’s lap, snoring slightly while his hand moved rhythmically through her fur. Maria began to cut a hunk of the pot roast into smaller pieces.
“I heard what happened today,” Maria started, initiating a stream of conversation encompassing the restaurant, local news, and the latest family gossip. In an extended family like theirs, there was always some kind of drama worth talking about and dissecting. By the time Maria had finished dinner—no more than a quarter of the plate—the crickets had begun their evening melody.
“You look like you got some sun last weekend.”
“I went paddleboarding after we had brunch.”
“With your new friend?” her mom inquired. “The one from the pier?”
At Maria’s startled expression, her mom shrugged. “I heard you and Serena talking. Your sister can be kind of loud sometimes.”
Serena strikes again, Maria thought. She hadn’t wanted to bring it up, but she couldn’t deny it now, could she? Even her father appeared to have a sudden heightened interest in the conversation.
“His name’s Colin.” Then, knowing her parents would press for more but not wanting them to delve too deeply, she went on. “Serena knows him from her classes, and when she and I had dinner on Saturday, Colin was tending bar there. We got to talking at the pier and decided to meet up on Sunday.”
“He’s in college? How old is he?”
“He’s my age. He didn’t start college until a couple of years ago. He wants to become a teacher.”
“Serena said he was very handsome,” her mother commented with a mischievous smile.
Thanks, Serena. Next time, lower your voice. “He is.”
“And you had a good time?”
“It was a lot of fun.”
“When can we meet him?”
“Don’t you think it’s a little early for that?” Maria said.
“It depends. Are you going out again?”
“Uh, yes… on Saturday.”
“Then we should meet him. You should invite him to brunch on Sunday.”
Maria opened her mouth and then closed it again. There was no way her parents were ready for Colin, especially when there’d be no chance at escape. The thought that Colin would answer whatever questions they asked with his usual directness was enough to give her heart palpitations. She smiled at her dad with a trace of desperation.
“Why did he wait so long to go to college?” he asked.
She considered the best way to answer while still telling the truth. “He didn’t figure out that he wanted to be a teacher until a couple of years ago.”
Of her parents, her dad had always been better at reading between the lines, and she suspected he would continue to press for more details about Colin’s past. But he was interrupted by the faint but audible ringing of a cell phone in the kitchen.
“Oh, that’s me,” she said, thanking God for the reprieve. “Let me get that.”
Rising from the table, she raced into the kitchen. Pulling her phone from her bag, she saw Colin’s name. She felt like a teenager as she pressed the button and raised the phone to her ear.
“Hey there,” she said, “I was just talking about you.” She paced the living room as they talked, catching up on how each had spent their day. As in person, he was an attentive listener, and when he sensed something in her voice, she found herself telling him about the incident with Ken. He grew quiet then, and when she asked whether he’d be interested in meeting her for lunch, he said he’d love to and asked what time he should pick her up at the office. She smiled, knowing that it would give her story more credence with Ken, and was secretly thrilled at the idea of seeing Colin so soon. When she hung up the phone, she had the sense that despite what her parents would no doubt think, Colin might be just what she needed in her life right now.
She returned to the porch, where her parents were still waiting at the table.
“Sorry,” she said, reaching for her wineglass. “That was Colin.”
“And he called just to say hello?”
Maria nodded. “We’re going to lunch tomorrow.”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. Her mother could never comprehend why anyone would consider going anywhere else besides the family restaurant.
“Wonderful,” her mom said. “I’ll make something special for the two of you.”