Page 34 of Tito
“So, he has good genes?” I suggested.
“You mean like Addams Family genes?” Tito asked.
Staring at him, we all laughed.
“It isn’t a joke,” Tito defended. “He has never shown any emotion, not a smile, laugh or anger… ever. Nor has he aged since he came here. The man isn’t normal. In fact, I don’t think he’s human—”
“—so, you think he’s a ghoul or something?”
We all looked up to see Zia standing close to my chair.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she added, “Una saccente,Max is a walking angel. A blessing to our family.” Her eyes sparkled with anger.
Chapter Eleven:Shakespeare and Spatulas
Tito
“I’m sorry, Mama,” I said.
“Why are you insulting him?” my mother questioned in a firm voice. “Santa Madre! Max has been a Godsend to this family since before you were in diapers.”
I did feel a little bad about it, but the questions wouldn’t go away. “Mama, I ask you… Has he ever told you his last name? Has he ever talked to you…Like a regular man? Sharing anything about his family or his history? Has he changed at all since the day you met him?”
“Chiudere il becco, Tito!”
I shook my head. “Mama, I’m serious. You need to settle down…” I paused as I realized what I just said.
“Uh-oh,” Romeo muttered.
Yeah, I’d done it, alright.
Valencia and Julianna looked back and forth at us all. They were unaware of my mother’s rules about how you addressed her.
There weren't many, but there were two lines that you never crossed with my mother. Never tell her how to cook or patronize her by asking her to calm down. Even Uncle Stephano knew better than to tell her to…settle down. She was about to show everyone in this room just how Italian she was and I would besaidexample of a rule breaker. “Che bruta, what a bunch of stronza! Santa Madre, he is an amico. How could you be so mean?”
I lowered my head. I could see this would go nowhere fast. My mother had taken this the wrong way. Yes, I did feel super curious to know if she had spoken to Max in a personal conversation. They had both been here for years and years. She was always cooking and in the house somewhere, basically running the household. So you would think, she would have had talks with him. Not that she would share them, my mother was many things but a gossip wasn’t one of them. Raising my head, I told her in Italian, “Mi dispiace, Mama.” I would apologize then she would drop it and be on her way.
The room went quiet as Valencia took my hand in hers as support.
“Ok, ti perdono,” my mother replied. She forgave me. “But figlio, why would you say such things?”
I shook my head. All I would do was land in trouble again if I told her. Too many things didn’t add up about ole Max. I didn’t really know why after all these years, but these doubts about him just crept up on me recently. The non-aging, his acting like some robot, the pantry thing.
“So you refuse to tell me?” my mother asked.
“You’ll just get mad at me.” I decided to be honest. Any other approach got your goose cooked with this woman. She always knew if you weren’t being truthful. She was a sharp lady and as smart or smarter than anyone I’d ever met. But she was a bit temperamental and she could swat your butt with a spatula like no one else. I chuckled under my breath while remembering a few of those. Then I paused while hoping she didn’t hear it.
She actually reached out to grab my ear. “Tell me the truth, Tito. Proprio adesso!” she demanded.
“Oww! Mama!” I exclaimed.
“Oh, wow.” Romeo chuckled.
She hadn’t done the ear thing in years, so I knew she was mad. It hurt like a bitch but I was an adult now, so I could take a bit more pain than when I was ten. Still, it was embarrassing too. “Ok, ok!” I told her in a bit of desperation.
She let go of my ear and then again crossed her arms over her chest.
I released a long breath. Knowing if I wasn’t careful, I could be digging a deeper hole for her to kick me into. But I went on and explained, “You have to admit, he hasn’t aged a day since he came here. He also has no emotions at all. And why does he go into the pantry so much?”
