Until Love Do Us Part

by Anna Premoli

  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 costum
es, 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.

  Epilogue

  Despite holding in her hand the worst cards she had been dealt for weeks, Jackie could not stop smiling. And, in all honesty, she would have carried on smiling even if she lost the next thousand games.

  And for a player as competitive as her, that was stranger than snow in August.

  “My husband and I met your granddaughter the other night, at the charity dinner for lawyers that Annabelle organized,” announced Jessica Stein, annoyed by that perpetually beatific smile that not even an obviously bad hand seemed able to put a dent in. “Apparently, Amalia is back with the Irish D.A.,” she added, hoping to touch a sore spot.

  Jackie was silent and still, all her attention on playing those awful cards as well as she could. But she never stopped smiling.

  “Of course they were together. They’re a couple,” she said, with a patient tone that was meant to sound a little superior.

  “Well, you can imagine my surprise when I realized that your daughter had for once actually organized a really sensible fundraiser. Apparently they are re-building a park in the Bronx and doing up the soup kitchen in Manhattan. How on earth will the miniature pigs manage?” asked Jessica Stein sarcastically.

  “Yes, only really worthy causes this time round,” admitted Jackie proudly. “And if you ask me, it must be thanks to Amalia’s positive influence.”

  Not even she herself was actually sure how her granddaughter had managed to open her mother’s eyes to what the really worthy causes were, but it certainly seemed that relations between the Berger women had taken a turn for the better recently. She attributed the sudden change to the presence of Ryan: people who are in love, and who are loved in return, tended – in her opinion – to be much more forgiving.

  “Going back to your granddaughter, she looked… Well, you know… as though she’d put on weight,” added Mrs Stein, who could have taught a German mastiff a thing or two.

  “Amalia, put on weight?” asked a shocked sounding Addison McLean, just to make her presence felt. In that part of Manhattan, putting on a few extra pounds was considered an outrage to society, and she considered it her sacred duty to underline the concept.

  “Amalia hasn’t put on weight,” Jackie pointed out calmly. “At least, she hasn’t just put on weight…” she said with a laugh.

  “So it’s true then!” said Jessica, who had been trying to obtain precisely that admission.

  Addison looked first at one and then the
other, not quite understanding what they meant. “What’s true?” she asked in annoyance, irked by that fact that she was always the last to work out what was going on. The fact that those two were always a step ahead of her, after knowing each other for so many years, was really beginning to get on her nerves. A lot.

  “Amalia is pregnant,” explained Jessica softly.

  Mrs McLean almost fell off her chair.

  “But aren’t they going to get married?” she asked Jackie agitatedly.

  But Jackie looked perfectly composed. In fact, she was smiling.

  “Oh, she’ll get married sooner or later, you’ll see…” she replied soothingly. Before coming to the bridge club, she had spent an hour with Amalia – A.K.A. the woman who was never going to get married – trying to calm her down after the little bust up she’d just had with Ryan. Yes, because just before the pregnancy (which they had planned, but which luckily had happened before they had time to realize what they were getting themselves into), the man who had always wanted to get married had suddenly decided that the best way to prove his love for Amalia would be to not marry her. He would be by her side forever and would never take her for granted and never put her the position of having to make her sign a prenup.

  Too bad that pregnant women don’t tend to see being deprived of a ring – even one they had never previously imagined themselves wanting, to be fair – as a grand gesture of love. Because when the issue of weddings reared its ugly head, it turned out that they were all just the same: all just desperate to get married. The next day, preferably.

  Her granddaughter made her smile – deep down, that seemingly hard-headed, determined woman was exactly like all the rest of them. Human.

  And in the past there had been moments when Jackie had good reason to wonder.

  Anyway, Jackie was in no doubt about the fact that Amalia would achieve her aim. If not immediately, certainly after she’d given birth. All she would have to do would be to transfer her trust fund to her children – the ones who had been born and the ones who were yet to be born – in order to get herself out from under that mountain of money that so irked Ryan. With her usual talent for complicating her life all by herself, her granddaughter was, in fact, in love with the one man on earth for whom inherited wealth represented a practically insurmountable obstacle. Fortunately, falling in love had turned her life upside down so much that there’d been no way for her to worm her way out of it. If she’d fostered any illusions about that at the beginning, Jackie was willing to bet that by now she had given in and accepted the situation.