That Saturday morning, Kayla turned up at Amalia’s door carrying what she described as a ‘mood-enhancing’ breakfast: two giant cappuccinos and a paper bag from which a divine fragrance emerged.
“Cupcakes!” she exclaimed when her friend opened the door. Amalia’s face still looked pretty sleepy, but she didn’t complain about being woken up.
“Since when have you been so free and easy with the calories?” she asked, moving out of the way to let her friend in.
Kayla made herself comfortable on the couch, passed Amalia her maxi cappuccino and took from the bag six wonderful cupcakes with mouth wateringly colorful glazes, which she lined up in a neat row on the coffee table.
“You get first choice. Or you get to eat them all. Today, we’re celebrating.”
“What’s the occasion?” asked Amalia. “Have you found a boyfriend or something?”
Her friend seemed not to notice her gloomy tone.
“Today we are going to spend the whole day celebrating your incredible victory yesterday.”
“‘Incredible’… Let’s keep a little perspective here…” she muttered in a low voice. “In my place, and with a witness like that, anyone would have won.”
“Yeah, okay, that’s true. But not many people would have been smart enough to question all the possible witnesses until they found the right person.”
“I was just lucky,” said Amalia.
“Honey, luck and talent have always been a pretty tight combination, Who’s to say where one begins and the other ends, right?”
“How is it that you’re so intelligent this early on a Saturday morning?”
“Good genes. And waking up very early. I had to go to the office before I came here to talk to the chief editor about a series of future articles,” Kayla revealed.
“Interesting stuff?” inquired Amalia.
“No, not really – I don’t know about you, but I’ve never been all that crazy about shale gas.”
“I have to admit that I’m struggling to see you and shale gas in the same picture.”
“I know… But anyway, never mind all that boring crap. Let’s eat these gorgeous little babies and toast your victory. This morning we published a nice article about how the Assistant D.A. had basically self-destructed thanks to your case!” Kayla informed her as though it was no big deal.
Amalia grew more serious and put down her cappuccino without even tasting it.
“What are they saying?” she asked without trying in any way to hide that fact that the topic was close to her heart. One of the benefits of having a trusted friend like Kayla was precisely that she knew she could be herself, even when what they were talking about was uncomfortable. Kayla always knew how she felt and to look beyond appearances: Kayla understood her, and that was why Amalia was certain she hadn’t just turned up at her apartment to feed her cupcakes.
“Nothing much – or rather, pretty much exactly what you’d imagine. It was only a small case, but it ended up attracting a lot of attention, partly because the Stubbs family were involved and partly because your assistant district attorney decided to make his first appearance on the New York scene with this unfortunate affair. Not a great start to his career here, if you want my opinion…” she chuckled with a hint of malice.
“No, it’s not an ideal start…” agreed Amalia, unable to suppress the guilt that prevented her from fully enjoying her victory. The previous day she had left the courtroom with an expression on her face that would have been appropriate had she lost. And today didn’t seem to promise anything better. The knot that she could feel in her stomach wasn’t destined to come undone any time soon, and it certainly wasn’t going to come undone by itself.
“I would say not. But it was totally his fault,” said Kayla, dismissive as ever. “Or rather, his and the other cases he has handled in the past.”
And there was the information Amalia had been waiting for – the real reason for Kayla’s visit.
“What do you mean?” she asked, sitting up and paying attention.
“Simple – the press dug into his record in Chicago a bit and it turned out that early in his career your Mr O’Moore dealt with several cases with minors from difficult backgrounds. It seems that a boy who he released after his first indictment had got it into his head to get himself involved in much more hardcore stuff. Moral of the story – a cop shoots him while he’s trying to carry out a robbery, just a few weeks after Ryan let him walk free.”
“Oh my God!” cried Amalia.
“Yeah – and as you can imagine, from that moment on, he became something of a champion of exemplary punishment. Even for a first conviction. In short, I think that getting his fingers burned that time and all the guilt it must have caused him meant that he wanted young criminals to have a taste of prison, maybe hoping that once they were released they’d decide to make a clean slate of it. Anyway, if you want my opinion, he’s just gone from one extreme to another.”
“It’s typical of Ryan to always be extreme,” smiled Amalia. “He is the type of guy who always believes in what he does. Even when he’s wrong.”
“And you’re going to accept that he’s like that because…” Kayla’s sentence trailed off.
“Because I’m in love with him, of course,” Amalia admitted without batting an eyelid. She had suddenly decided she’d had enough of all this ‘denial’ that there seemed to be in her life. The results hadn’t exactly been encouraging, had they?
Kayla smiled benevolently.
“Nice way to prove it. I mean, most men might take being humiliated in court like that as an unforgivable slap in the face.”
“Then I can only hope that Ryan is not like most men,” she said calmly. And in fact, deep within herself she felt a strange optimism she couldn’t justify. But hope, as everyone knows, doesn’t need particularly fertile land to start sprouting.
Kayla took a large bite out of one of the cupcakes – the chocolate one with pink icing and blue stars.
“Never lose hope. You need a plan, my dear, because your personal case is a pretty damn desperate one. You might be able to earn some points with him if you gave up that trust fund of yours, but why the hell would you do that for a man? No one is that important,” she reasoned wisely.
“Especially because the proceeds of that fund could fund a lot of good works, like cleaning up the public parks in poor areas, the soup kitchen, school programs for children whose families can’t afford extra-curricular activities, entertainment for the elderly and support for dog shelters,” Amalia answered in one breath.
Kayla stared at her with her mouth hanging wide open. “And when the hell did you think of all those?”
Amalia shrugged. “I know it’s an awful thing to admit, but it’s all thanks to Wyatt,” she admitted.
Her friend burst out laughing.
“My God, if I’d known that we were going to end up saying nice things about Judge Wyatt, I’d have brought booze, not coffee!”
“I actually could use something stronger, given what I’m about to do.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but my curiosity always gets the better of me… What are you about to do, Amalia?”
Amalia picked up a cupcake with cream-colored frosting.
“Tomorrow is St Patrick’s day. Seems like a pretty good day to play my last card. You know – all or nothing, right?”
“Well then, before you break something – like your heart – let’s get our blood sugar levels up to speed. If we’re going to touch rock bottom, let’s at least do it in style.”
The two friends sat there eating and chatting until Amalia finally picked up her tablet and began to look for more detailed information on the St Patrick’s Day parade and the various festivities in the city.
“Oh shit!” she suddenly cried out.
“What’s the matter?” Kayla teased her. “Have they decided to cancel Saint Patrick’s this year after a good two hundred and fifty years of honorable tradition?”
“No, but when the holiday falls on a Sunday – and this year it does – the festivities and the parade take place the day before for religious reasons. So it’s today!” she shouted in alarm. Amalia felt she needed at least another twenty-four hours of psychological preparation: the proximity of her plan was inducing panic. Good thing her profession accustomed her to working under pressure, she thought. And if this wasn’t pressure, she didn’t know what was!
“No pain, no gain, right?”
“You make it sound so easy. It’s me who’s going to try and persuade that Irish sourpuss that it would be a good idea for us to start dating.”
Kayla looked at her with a sweetness that she usually reserved for very special occasions.
“You know what, I’m going to confess something to you, and then I’ll deny ever having said it: I envy you. Yeah, I envy you, because you’ve managed to find someone you’re willing to beg for and you’re willing to risk looking a fool for. I envy you because you know who you want in your life, and because your days aren’t just all the same any more. I envy you because you’ve found a man that it’s worth changing your plans for. Have you any idea how rare that is these days?”
Amalia looked at her with a mixture of astonishment and disbelief. “Wow. I mean, really – wow. I had no idea you thought stuff like that…”
“Yeah, well, I have my moments…” said Kayla, as she tried to hide her embarrassment from her friend. “Not often, but I have them.”
“But listen – I’m only going to ask him one last time and that’s it. Total humiliation I can live without.”
Kayla just sighed.
“My dear girl, you know very well that I can’t promise anything like that. You know what they say, you can’t climb back up until you’ve hit rock bottom. But in the meantime, eat. And don’t overthink things. In moments like this, thinking can be absolutely fatal.”
Despite everything, Amalia managed to smile, and took another bite of her cupcake.
*
Amalia looked at her costume again and then looked back to Kayla and gave a discouraged sigh.
“Just tell me again: why are we dressed like a couple of zucchini?”
Her friend couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“Why, were you hoping to be cast as lead lettuce?”
“I said that I didn’t want to be humiliated!” an annoyed Amalia reminded her.
“And you’re not going to be. We’re having fun, not being humiliated! I mean, sure, it might help if you would only smile a bit… Enough with that grouchy expression – in case you’ve forgotten, you’re supposed to be a cheerful four leaf clover.”
Amalia raised her eyes to the heavens. “‘Supposed’ is the word. Personally, I feel more a four leaf zucchini.”
“Oh come on – since when did zucchini start wearing amazing hats like that?” asked Kayla, pointing to the pretty one perched on Amalia’s head.
“Where the hell did you find these costumes?”
“I have a cousin tenth-removed who goes around saying he’s part Irish just so he can take part in events like this. This year, he and his friends all dressed as leprechauns, so the shamrocks they wore last year were available for the asking.”
“Wow, what a stroke of luck. I still think my idea was better: just a nice green scarf,” she moaned, feeling like the most ridiculous woman on the planet. Sure, she was in good company judging by the absurdly dressed crowd in the streets, but she still looked ridiculous.
“Oh, don’t make me laugh! How many times do I have to tell you? If you want to do something, do it properly!” her friend berated her “Otherwise it makes no sense even trying in the first place!”
“Ryan will die laughing when he sees me. If we ever manage to find him in this chaos…”
“He’s Irish, he has to be here,” said Kayla.
“Let’s hope so…” whispered Amalia, who at that moment was not feeling particularly optimistic about her chances. She had thrown herself into this madness without reflecting properly on her decision and without weighing up the positives and the negatives. Which was what she always used to do – often to the point of exhaustion – until Ryan had barged his way into her orderly life. Which was one of the reasons she felt anything but at ease.
The parade went on for hours, as chaotic and noisy as every year, but Amalia couldn’t enjoy the festive atmosphere because she still hadn’t seen Ryan. She was almost ready to call the whole thing off and go home when Kayla suddenly grabbed her by the elbow. “Look who’s over there…”
Amalia perked up right away, but her eyes went dull an instant later. “Niel,” she said flatly, as soon as she saw Ryan’s brother surrounded by a group of laughing girls.
“And where there’s Niel, there’s bound to be Ryan,” concluded her friend. “Come on, let’s go over and say hello.”
Niel at least had the good manners not to laugh when they appeared before him, but the effort not to was visible on his face.
“Good morning, shamrocks!” he greeted them cheerfully.
“See, he managed to tell what we were dressed up as straightaway!” chuckled Kayla with satisfaction. “I always suspected he was a man of remarkable intuition.”
Niel was about to answer when Amalia suddenly held up a hand and cut him off. “Please, not another word about the costumes,” she pleaded.
“Oh, take no notice of this cantankerous cloverleaf,” begged Kayla. “These costumes are amazing and I just don’t understand why this delightful maiden you see here beside me doesn’t grasp the fact.”
“Because the delightful maiden doesn’t enjoy making a fool of herself!” retorted the other.
“It’s all about attitude, Amalia. If you’re not convinced, how do you expect others to believe in you?”
“Listen, these ten cent bits of psychology you come out with aren’t up to much, let me tell you.”
“No, she’s right,” interjected Niel. “In fact Kayla makes a wonderful four leaf clover,” he said gallantly. She had really chosen the wrong brother.
“Why thank you! See, there are some O’Moores around with their heads screwed on properly!” teased her friend. “And where did you leave the other one? You know, the one who’s lacking the most basic reasoning skills?”
Niel shrugged. “Sorry – he didn’t come to the parade. He looked like death warmed up this morning, when I arrived at his house…”
“Yeah, well, this one here’s not doing much better,” replied Kayla, jerking her thumb towards Amalia, “and she’s the one that won the case.”
“By the way, congratulations,” Niel said to Amalia sincerely.
She thanked him, with some embarrassment, muttering “I was just doing my job.”
“Hey, can we cut out the small talk?” interjected Kayla. “Congratulations, thank you very much, you’ve been a great crowd, but we have bigger fish to fry here! Ok, Niel, where is Ryan? Come on, give.”
Niel could not help but smile at Kayla’s brazenness.
“Well, as he obviously wasn’t in the mood to celebrate with us, we found him something useful to do – he’s washing dishes in the kitchen at the bar!” Niel exclaimed with satisfaction.
Amalia laughed at the idea despite herself. “Now that I really have to see with my own two eyes.”
Niel winked.
“That’s exactly what I was hoping you would say.”
*
Ryan was starting to think that things were just going to keep getting worse. Not only were the newspapers full of articles poking fun at him and how ineptly he’d handled the Stubbs trial, not only had he run the risk of actually losing his job – and he had a sneaking suspicion that the only reason the D.A. hadn’t sent him packing was because he couldn’t replace two assistant D.A.s in the space of a few months without becoming the laughing stock of the whole country – but to make matters worse he was now trapped in the kitchen of that damn bar washing all the dishes and glasses that his parents possessed. And to judge by the pile in front of him, his mother had decided to take the opportunity to make him wash everything she could find, including dishes that had been in storage since World War Two.
“You cannot have this many dishes!” he groaned after two hours of hard work.
His mother just shrugged her shoulders. “You never know how many dishes you’re going to break in the future,” she pointed out.
“Ok, Ma,” protested Ryan angrily, “but however many it is, it ain’t gonna be this many!”
At that moment his father walked into the kitchen and burst out laughing at his son’s obvious discontent.
“Quit whining and start washing faster. All that time you spent at Yale must have turned you into a softy!”
“Can we please not talk about the law, Yale or the D.A.’s office today?” Ryan asked in exasperation. After a sleepless night, the only reason he had offered to wash all the damn dishes had been so as not to think about the last few weeks of his life. So far, it wasn’t working.
“And to think that once upon a time, all you wanted to talk about was the law…” his father reminded him brusquely. In the O’Moore family, the rule was sincerity, for better or for worse.
Ryan raised his eyes to the ceiling in frustration.
“Why the hell did I ever think it would be a good idea to come back to New York…?”
“There was nothing wrong with the idea – it’s just that actually doing it caused you a couple headaches,” said his father with a laugh.
“Honey, leave the kid alone,” interjected his wife sensitively. “Can’t you see that Ryan’s not himself?”
“I sure can. But he started not being himself the day he met that blonde… Amalia, right? Don’t blame me for it, I had absolutely nothing to do with him going completely nuts.”
Ryan stood back from the sink of hot soapy water and went off to dry his hands.
“That’s it, I’m out of here! I came here hoping to find a bit of peace and to think things through and all you lot can do is give me a hard time,” he shouted. “What kind of family are you anyway?”
“The best kind,” said Niel, appearing from nowhere with a strangely smug expression.
“Ah, finally – a friendly face,” said Ryan, breathing a sigh of relief. “Have you any idea of the hellhole you left me in here?”
“I was on a mission for you, dear brother,” he said cryptically. “I’ve brought you a magnificent four leaf clover.”
“Your sense of humor is even worse than theirs,” said Ryan. “What the hell do I care about a goddamn shamrock? The way I feel, a whole field full of them wouldn’t cheer me up.”
“Hey, who do you think you’re dealing with?” joked Niel. “This is a special shamrock! Come on in!”
At that moment, behind his brother appeared the last person in the world he would have expected to lay eyes upon. And not only that, she was wearing a weird green costume and in her hand was a giant cloverleaf hat.
So Niel hadn’t been joking.
“Amalia…” he managed to stammer through his broad smile.
The scene was pretty bizarre – her dressed as a four leaf clover, him covered in soap suds.
“Hello, Ryan,” she greeted him, hesitating to walk forward as though she had suddenly grown bashful. And Amalia was one of the least bashful women on the face of the planet.
“Nice costume,” he couldn’t help saying with a smirk.
“Yeah, well, it’s all Kayla’s fault…” she said, attempting to justify herself. “So, you’re a dishwasher now, huh?” she asked, pointing to the pile of plates in front of them.
“I’m practicing. You know… for if I end up getting the sack. But I was about to take a break,” he said, taking off his apron. “You want to go out and get some fresh air?” he proposed, desperate to get out of that kitchen where what felt like a thousand pairs of prying eyes were staring at them.
“Why not?”
Ryan took his coat from the hook near the back door and led the way, but once they were out in the anonymous back alley he put his jacket over her shoulders instead of on himself.
“There’s no need, I’m fine like this,” said Amalia.
“That costume can’t be very warm,” he answered quickly.
“Maybe not the costume, but I can assure you that the embarrassment of having been talked into wearing it is keeping me pretty toasty….”
Ryan couldn’t hide a smile.
“Well it’s not the kind of thing I’d have ever imagined seeing you wearing, and that’s a fact. Are you a particularly big fan of the parade?” he asked, as though it were perfectly normal for them to be standing out in the frosty air making small talk.
“It’s my first time, if you must know.”
“Oh, right – and to what do we owe this sudden interest in Irish culture?” he teased. “Apart from the cool costumes, obviously.”
Amalia gave him a vicious glare.
“Yes, apart from the huge amount of fun I’m having dressed up as a vegetable, there’s only one reason for my interest in Irish traditions,” she shot back. “You.”
He looked at her in confusion, certain that he must have misheard.
“Me?” he said, sounding surprised.
“Yes, you, you jerk,” she repeated.
“Oh…” he murmured, his eyes staring intensely into hers.
“Oh?” echoed Amalia with irritation. “I turn up in your pub dressed as a four leaf clover, I confess that I’ve come for you and all you can come up with is ‘oh’? And this is supposed to be the guy with the fastest mouth in New York?”
She gave an angry snort, but seemed to be more annoyed with herself than with him. She handed him back his jacket, turned around and stalked off, determined to get out of that alley as fast as she damn well could.
Ryan was still trying to work out what she’d meant – the surprise of her words had completely floored him. Luckily, though, he had the good sense to set off after her without waiting for his brain to catch up and tell him exactly what the hell was going on. After a few rapid strides he caught up with her. Unable to slow himself down in time, his momentum carried him right into her, knocking her against the wall of the building opposite. He tried to soften the impact with his hands, but Amalia’s eyes opened wide in shock and surprise.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” she asked, staring anxiously at his strange expression. Ryan realized that he actually must look as though he was half crazy. And to be honest, half crazy was exactly how he felt. His head was spinning as though he were drunk, or had been punched in the face.
He began mouthing words, but, realizing that he clearly wasn’t lucid enough to string together a sentence, he did the only thing that seemed to make sense at that moment.
He kissed her. With a certain desperation.
At first Amalia tried to fight him off. He couldn’t blame her: they hadn’t managed to say anything that made sense to each other and hadn’t managed to resolve any of the things that drove them apart. But she must have realized his confusion, because before long she gave in and began returning his kisses with equal intensity, dropping her lucky hat and putting her arms around his neck with abandon.
Ok, it wasn’t Christmas and, ok, they might not be in Thirty-fourth Street, but that kiss certainly tasted like a miracle anyway.
When, several minutes later, Ryan had finally managed to pull his lips from hers, he buried his head in her thick mass of hair and breathed in her scent.
“I can’t believe you actually came,” he whispered, continuing to caress her as though she were some kind of mirage.
“Well if I’d waited for you to take the initiative…” she mumbled a little resentfully. And maybe she had a point. At the moment he was grateful she was the type of woman who knew how to strike while the iron was hot.
“Hey, believe me, another two days tops and I would have come begging,” he admitted with a sigh. “There are only so many sleepless nights that I can handle…”
“Woah! Ryan O’Moore begging – now that I would have liked to see! You know, I’m almost tempted to go back home and wait for you to actually do it!”
“Look,” he said, his face growing serious, “one thing I do know is that when you find a four leaf clover, you pick it and you never let it go.”
“Lucky for you that I’m actually a zucchini, then,” said Amalia.
“What?” asked Ryan, looking confused.
“Never mind, it’s a long story.”
“And in any case, I’d keep you even if you were a zucchini. I don’t care who you are,” he confessed, grabbing her hand and placing it upon his heart, “just as long as you stay here.”
“In this horrible alley?” she asked indignantly, as though suddenly noticing for the first time where they were. “Really?”
“I didn’t mean right here… Your place would be fine too. Or even mine.”
“My place is much closer,” she said immediately, as practical and efficient as always.
“Great – I can see that we’re on the same page,” he said, smiling and holding her to him. All they wanted in that moment was to get to either of their homes, as soon as possible. At that point it didn’t matter which.
“But… I mean, what about your parents? And Kayla and Niel?” she asked uncertainly. “Aren’t we going to say anything to them?”
“They’ll work it out for themselves,” he suggested as they walked. But Amalia stopped once again.
“Ryan, listen. There’s one thing I want to clear up,” she said, sounding serious. “My trust fund is staying. I love you – madly, if I’m honest – but I’m not crazy enough to throw it to the wind just because you have unresolved issues with rich people. So I would really appreciate it if you would just get used to it. I’m never going to touch that money, but I can see no reason to stop administering it, seeing as I’m pretty damn good at it.”
Ryan stared at her for a few seconds and then burst into laughter.
“What I love most about you is that you never stop using your brain. Never… Wish I could say the same thing about myself…”
She gave him a wink and took his hand.
“That’s because I’m a woman, Ryan. We’re always thinking. Try and get that into your head for future reference.”
He hugged her without replying. Even an assistant D.A. realized that there were times when keeping your mouth shut was necessary.