Mary wondered how things could be so right and so wrong, in the very same day. She may have won her first motion as a partner, but the only restaurant open for lunch this early was Japanese and her parents never ate anything but Italian. The waiter served their sushi on a sampan, and the DiNunzios recoiled as if it were a garbage barge.
“IT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE FISH TO ME, MARE.”
Her mother, still in her topcoat, shrank from the table.
“It is fish. It’s special fish.” Mary didn’t mention the uncooked part. She figured it wouldn’t help her argument.
“Mr. D, try it!” Judy chirped, reaching for her chopsticks. “You’ll love sushi. It’s delicious!”
“Ugh.” Fiorella turned up her Roman nose. “I dislike sushi.”
“Really.” Mary couldn’t hold her tongue another minute. “Well, if we hadn’t had to flee my office, because somebody at the table screamed at my new partner, then we could have waited until noon and had eggplant parm, which we all love.”
Fiorella didn’t reply.
“FIORELLA, SHE’S RIGHT. YOU SHOULD SAY YOU’RE SORRY FOR WHAT YOU DID.”
“Sì,” her mother said softly, and Fiorella turned to Mary.
“I’m sorry. Let’s move on and forget this matter.”
“Not so fast. I understand if you don’t like Bennie. My mother didn’t either, the first time she saw her.” Mary turned to her. “Remember, Ma? You called her evil, too.”
Her mother nodded, chuckling. “Sì, sì, e vero. I no like Benedetta. She work Maria too hard. Alla time, work, work, work.”
Mary smiled, turning back to Fiorella. “Bennie is really a good person. She taught me everything, and even though she didn’t make it easy on me, I’m a better lawyer for knowing her. I’m a better person for knowing her.”
Fiorella sniffed. “You are naïve.”
“You don’t know her. Or me.”
“Perhaps we can agree to disagree.”
“Fine,” Mary said, stiffly, and Judy picked up her water glass.
“Now, for a toast to our girl Mary, who made partner today! Congratulations!”
“CENT ANN’.” Her father raised his glass, and her mother did the same, smiling sweetly at her.
“Cent ann’, Maria, te amo.”
“I love you guys.” Mary raised her glass. She wasn’t about to let Fiorella ruin this day, for any of them. “Thank you all very much, for everything. This wouldn’t have happened without my wonderful family or my best friend.”
“Brava!” Judy said, and they all took a sip.
Mary looked over at her mother, who was shifting uncomfortably in her chair. It was on the small side, and with the bunchy coat, she was wedged inside its arms. “Ma, why don’t you take your coat off?”
“No, is h’okay.”
“You’ll feel better, don’t you think?”
“Sì, Maria, h’okay.” Her mother stood up and shrugged off the coat, surprising all of them. She wasn’t wearing her usual flowered dress or the blue one she wore to Mass. Instead, she had on an obvious knockoff of Fiorella’s sexy black Armani. Unfortunately, she was shaped like a meatball, with breasts. She modeled the dress, flushing red, then sat down.
“Ma!” Mary said, quickly. “Wow! You look so nice! Where did you get that dress?”
“Grazie, Maria, I made.”
“You did a great job!” Mary should have guessed as much. She looked over at her father and flared her eyes meaningfully.
“YOU LOOK SO GOOD, VEET!”
“Mrs. D, you’re awesome!” Judy grinned, and her mother smiled happily, which was reward enough for Mary.
Nobody but Mary noticed that Fiorella said nothing.