Mick took a sip of his Scotch, closing his eyes for a second before meeting my gaze again. “My mom, she had a tough life. Tiny apartment in Brooklyn, worked all day to support my freeloading father. Instead of rubbing her feet when she came home from working retail, he broke bones or gave her bruises.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“I took care of him in the end. As soon as my testosterone kicked in, I met him outside the apartment as he was coming home one day. I had a friend’s dad who was a cop waiting on the corner. Told him if he didn’t leave and promise to never come back, I was bringing the policeman home for dinner and to speak with Mom. The day before my dad had given her a pretty bad shiner, and she’d spent half the morning putting makeup over it. There was no way a cop wouldn’t recognize it for what it was.”
“That’s awful ... terrible. I’m glad your mom had you to stick up for her.”
“That’s my sob story. Haven’t been able to stomach a weak man ever since.”
A stinging formed behind my eyes, and I had to ... needed to ... change the subject. After taking another sip of my water, I said, “I’m actually from Marlboro, New Jersey. Went to Temple for school. I’d always hoped to work for theTimes, but it never happened.”
“You’ve got time to do whatever you want, Margo,” Mick said firmly, his dark eyes sparking a glimmer of hope in me that I hadn’t known in years.
Picking up my menu, I decided to choose something to eat rather than fill myself on false promises.
Not giving up, Mick said, “You can,” but I brushed it off.
“Honestly, I feel lucky to do what I do. I have a good relationship with my editor, I’ve carved out this little niche for myself, and I have time for Priss. Priscilla. She’s twelve, and obviously is the reason I don’t want to upset my home.”
Somewhat ironic words considering I was sitting across from Mick, a situation that had considerable potential to upset my home.
“It’s only lunch,” he said, seemingly reading my mind.
I nodded. “I know, and I appreciate your ...” I searched my scattered brain for the right word.Interest? No. Flattery? No again.“Concern.”
“I told you my story. You can share more when you want, but until then, let’s enjoy each other’s company. Now, what are you having?”
He eyed the menu in my hand, my fingers tingling where I was gripping the flimsy thing too hard.
“I love the arugula salad, but I also like the fries. Maybe love them more,” I said truthfully. I didn’t think there was any point in hiding anything since Mick appeared to be able to read my thoughts.
Zeus returned to take our orders, and Mick asked for an order of fries along with his turkey BLT and my arugula salad.
“Thank you,” I told him.
“Hey, if fries are your thing, no reason to deny yourself.”
We chatted a little more about his time at Wharton, how proud his mom would have been if she were alive. She’d passed away when he was in his last year of undergraduate at Fordham. Breast cancer.
“Those guys were so pretentious,” he said about his classmates, “attending school on their daddy’s money. Then there was me, hungry as hell. My applications for internships were always the first ones in, while my classmates were off skiing or whatever the fuck they did.”
“I get it. When I was at Temple, there were a bunch of kids who couldn’t get in anywhere else. They spent their parents’ money and had a good time with not much to show for it at the end of four years. That’s how I met Tommy,” I said without thinking, and nearly bit my tongue on saying his name.
“Don’t be afraid to share,” Mick said. “I know what the score is. He’s got you. You have a family with him.” He tried to school his tone, but the disdain leaked through his words.
“We met at a study session. An English Lit class. It was part of my major, and he was taking it as a gen ed credit. We rolled our eyes at the general lack of respect most of the students had. The rest is history. Our first date turned into dating, and then living together while he went to law school. We got married the summer of his first job, and Priscilla came pretty soon after that.”
Mick gave me a nod, not only listening with his ears but his eyes too. He seemed to absorb all of me. After more than a decade of being ignored, it was incredibly validating.
“Tell me, when were you going to mention your real name is McKenzie?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.
“I was saving that for a later time, but Zeus made that hard to do.”
Our food arrived, and Mick and I ate over shared laughs and the smell of salty fries, our fingers brushing when we went to take one and dip into the ketchup.
“What are we doing?” I asked, not really wanting to know. I’d been looking for a life preserver and felt like I’d found a raft with a hole in it.
“We’re having lunch,” Mick said simply. “I’m not going to deny something clicked between the two of us, but you have your commitments, and I’m not going to push you.”
