Dot and Harper had helped plan the entire weekend, which included a visit to the Taylor farm for a barbecue one day and then back to the Cedar Falls Inn supper club the next for her birthday.
Mary was also determined to demonstrate that she hadn’t completely lost her mind when she’d decided to come with Dot for a year to the middle of the nowhere, though she was already bracing herself for the lectures from her mother about finding a man and settling down. When she was back home for those couple of weeks in June, her mom couldn’t help herself one night at dinner.
“Soon you’ll be on the other side of twenty-five. You’re going to be left behind,” Christine Russo had said.
“Ma. That’s a little extreme.”
“No, it’s true. You remember Veronica Conti? She just married Vinnie Gallo last winter, and they’re having twins any day now. They bought a house over in Silver Lake and they’re redoing the basement, so they have a mother-in-law’s suite.” She looked at her sons to telegraph she thought this was a very good idea and that they should think of doing the same.
“And then there’s Erica Moretti,” she continued. “Remember she dated your brother in high school? She’s having her third baby this fall and they got a second house down at LBI. Can you imagine? They already have a second house—and it’s at the shore.”
“The traffic to LBI is horrendous. They’ll spend years of their lives on the Parkway.” Mary wasn’t biting.
“Come on, Mary. It’s happening all around you. And it’s not good to wait too long. You must think about getting married as if it’s part of your job.”
“But I have a job, Ma. Besides, you’re doing the work for me.”
“Don’t get me wrong. We’re so proud of you. But you don’t want to be an older mother, trying to catch up to everyone else.”
“Yep, Ma. You don’t have to worry. I’ve always got my eyes and ears open,” she said, smiling and acting like she was taking it all on board. She raised her eyebrows at her favorite older brother, Father Gabe, to get him to change the subject.
As the conversation turned to what in the world her cousin Gina was thinking having a destination wedding, “In Mexico of all places!” her Nonna said, Mary let her mind churn on the question of her personal life.
First, she couldn’t bear her mother’s obsession with her future. It wasn’t that she didn’t think about it. She just didn’t fixate on it. And second, she hadn’t told them about Jake. She wasn’t even sure what she’d tell them about him. That he was a hot cop who was fun to be around? And that he was intelligent, generous, responsible, and funny? Or that she was falling for him—the way he made her knees buckle when he walked in a room and how he matched her game of wits and made her feel more alive and understood than she’d ever felt in her life?
She wasn’t ready to answer her parents’ one thousand and one questions about him. So, she’d said nothing. Besides, she kind of liked having this secret. Her brothers couldn’t tease her about it, and her parents couldn’t interrogate and talk her out of it. For now, Jake was all hers.
But they’d find out soon enough. Their plane had just landed, and they’d soon be at the Taylor farm.
“Ma! Dad!” Mary called loudly as they came out of the terminal. She hadn’t anticipated how excited she’d be to see them.
The Russos were a good-looking couple, and they stood out in the Midwest. Her mom was of medium height, and thin like Mary, with the same thick black curly hair. She wore a tan sleeveless top with a plunging neckline and black linen shorts with spotless white platform sneakers. Huge sunglasses were pushed up on top of her head. She carried a black and white leather Prada bag and sported a large tennis bracelet and matching earrings.
Her dad had on his weekend uniform: khaki shorts, a white fitted T-shirt, and his Magnanni loafers. He was still fairly fit at fifty-five years old. He’d been a boxer in his youth. Lately his waist had thickened a bit, and he looked a little more like a taller Danny DeVito than an Al Pacino. When his friends from the neighborhood chided him about gaining a little weight, he’d pat his belly and say, “My Chrissy’s cooking isalmostas good as my mother’s!”Thatwas high praise for Mrs. Russo.
Mary did a little jog to jump into her dad’s arms. He picked her up easily and twirled her around.
“There’s my girl,” he said, and his Staten Island accent sounded like home. He set her down to give his wife a chance to hug the daughter they’d always adored.
“You came inside? I don’t think that’s happened for us since before 9/11,” Christine Russo said. “What a nice surprise—we thought you’d text us from the curb.”
“Tell me about it. But I found parking and, guess what? It’s free for the first thirty minutes! Come, let’s get your bags and get this weekend started.” She linked her arms through theirs.
Two large suitcases covered in tight plastic came down the shoot.
“What, did you pack for three days or three months, Ma?”
“She brought all of her shoes, for one thing,” Tony said.
“Well, I wasn’t sure what I’d need!” Christine defended herself. “And there’s a bunch of goodies in there that Nonna insisted we bring for your birthday.”
“Yum! I hope there are some pizzelles in there.”
“I thought we’d take some to the farm. I can’t show up empty-handed,” Christine said.
“They’ll appreciate it. And there won’t be any leftovers, that’s for sure.” Mary imagined Jake eating some of her Nonna’s amaretti and pignoli cookies then snapped out of her food fantasy and guided her parents to the parking garage.
AS MARY TURNEDoff the highway and into Cedar Falls, her mother remarked on the flowers spilling out of planters from the residences and business, and her dad admired the clipped grass and solid construction.