Chapter 8 - The Return to Astoria
On a crisp, sunny Sunday afternoon three weeks later, the elevated subway tracks along 31st Street in Astoria, Queens, rattled with the rhythmic, mechanical roar of the N train curving toward Ditmars Boulevard.
The neighborhood smelled of roasted espresso from the Greek bakeries, souvlaki smoke, and the clean, cold salt tang of the East River blowing across the rooftops.
I wore an unbuttoned camel-wool overcoat over a dark green cashmere sweater, dark denim trousers, and leather boots, walking down the cracked concrete sidewalk of Northern Boulevard with a brown paper bag of warm spanakopita from our neighborhood bakery tucked under my arm.
Beside me walked Dominic Rinaldi.
He had left his security motorcade three blocks away on the avenue.
He wore dark denim trousers, an unbuttoned black pea coat over an ivory thermal crewneck, and leather work boots, looking like an ordinary, broad-shouldered man who had spent his life on the waterfront rather than a billionaire who ruled the maritime trade of three oceans.
He held my left hand in his, our fingers interlaced, his thumb softly stroking my knuckles with that effortless, protective warmth that had become the anchor of my life.
We climbed the narrow, creaking wooden stairs of the two-bedroom apartment above the auto body shop.
The smell of lemon floor wax, chicken soup, and fresh rosemary hit us as I pushed open the unlocked front door.
Inside the small, sun-drenched living room, sitting on an armchair beside the window, was my mother, Helen Bennett.
She looked five years younger.
Her breathing was clear, her cheeks flushed with healthy pink, wearing a soft lavender cardigan that my brother had bought her from a boutique in Manhattan. Her hands, which had been crippled with arthritic pain for six years, were resting calmly over a legal catalog of university housing options.
Sitting on the floor with his back against the sofa, surrounded by technical schematics for a specialized pediatric robotic limb, was my twenty-one-year-old brother, Leo.
When the door clicked open, Leo looked up, his face breaking into an ear-splitting, radiant grin:
"Mara!"
He scrambled to his feet, lunging across the rug, throwing his arms around my neck, lifting me off the floor with all his young engineer’s strength:
"Look at the mail, Mara! Cooper Union ratified the research grant! The university gave me my own private laboratory bay in the new biomedical wing! They said an anonymous trust endowed the entire department!"
I laughed—a clean, musical, and triumphant sound that filled the small apartment with light—and kissed his temple, hugging him with a fierce, sacred devotion that made my eyes burn with sweet tears.
"I know, Leo," I whispered, holding his shoulders. "I saw the paperwork in London."
Leo turned around, his eyes widening as he saw the tall, dark-haired man standing in the doorway holding a box of Greek pastries.
"You must be Mr. Rinaldi," Leo said, his voice dropping into nervous, polite respect, wiping his flour-dusted hands on his jeans.
Dominic stepped across the threshold, set the pastries on the kitchen counter, and walked forward with an easy, unhurried grace.
He didn't offer a corporate hand.
He reached out, his large, scarred hand clasping Leo’s shoulder in a warm, solid grip that had the weight of an older brother closing ranks around family.
"It’s Dominic, Leo," he said, his deep baritone warm and resonant. "And your sister has spent the last three weeks telling half the admiralty lawyers in Europe that her brother is the smartest biomedical engineer in North America."
My mother stood up slowly from her armchair, her eyes shining with quiet, generational tears as she looked at the man who had pulled our family out of the cold.
"Thank you, Dominic," Helen whispered softly, taking both of his hands into hers. "For keeping my girl safe."
Dominic looked down at my mother, his slate-gray eyes softening into an expression of profound, unreserved reverence:
May you like
"Your daughter kept herself safe, Mrs. Bennett," Dominic murmured, turning his head to catch my eye across the small living room.
"She is the bravest officer who ever walked onto a flagship. And as long as breath stays in my body... no wolf in this world will ever touch your house again."
