Page 25 of Summer, in Between
‘Good one,’ I high five my brother as he passes me in the kitchen.‘I’ll make it, but Matty can take it downstairs.I’m not their slave.’
‘Don’t worry,’ says Mum.‘I’m getting lunch ready anyway.Matteo, go and see what time Dad and Paul want to eat.’
‘Matty, wait,’ I say.Mum, stop!Don’t even think about it, he’s just here to work, why would he want to have lunch?That’s too big a deal, even for you.’
‘It’s lunch, Cat, not a royal wedding.I can’t feed my husband and let his assistant starve, can I?’says Mum.‘Matty, off you go.’
Matty takes the four steps down to Mum and Dad’s room and goes into their ensuite.I’m about to tell him to close the door to give himself, and more importantly us, some privacy when his voice booms through the house.‘DAD!LUNCH!WHEN?’
Mum, Nonna and I simultaneously screech at him and it’s a wonder that between his yell and our shrieks we’re left with a pane of glass anywhere in the house.
‘I could have yelled,’ says Mum.‘Go outside, walk down the stairs and speak like a human.’
‘What kind of animal will Catarina’sragazzothink you are?’shouts Nonna.‘Show some class, Matteo.You’re not a barbarian.Stop acting like one.’
‘Nonna!He is not my boyfriend!He’s just someproprio un bischerothat’s helping Dad.’
Mum’s mouth is open.Nonna stares past me.
‘He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?’I say, in Italian.They nod and Matty cracks up.
‘I’m guessing she didn’t call me anything particularly flattering?’Paul asks Matty.
‘She called you baby daddy,’ says Matty.
‘You’re such a turdburger!’He shoots across the room out of reach to avoid my lunge.
‘I was just coming up to say hello.’Paul kicks off his work boots and stands in the door, pausing until Mum waves him in.He says hello to her and asks how she is.It’s like he’s read a book about how to get parents on side.He looks at my grandmother then looks at me expectedly.I sigh.Best get this over with.Nonna will make him sorry he ever crossed this threshold.
‘Nonna, this is Paul, he’s working with Dad,’ I say.‘This is my grandmother, Mrs Marea.’
‘Ciao, signora.’He shakes her hand.My head nearly snaps off my neck.
‘Ciao, Paulo!’Nonna fires off in Italian, asking after his health.
His mouth drops, and then he smiles.His smile is next level.I mean, after two years of orthodontic treatment mine is good, but he could be in a toothpaste ad.Nine out of ten dentists agree, hottest of the hot.He holds his hands up in mock surrender.‘Uh,mi dispiace, is that right?I only know a couple of words.’
‘It’s wonderful that you have the respect to make an effort,’ says Nonna.‘Not many people do.Do you learn Italian at school like myprincipessa?’
‘Wow, Nonna, so now I’m a princess when ten minutes ago I was a smart mouth.’
She dismisses me with a wave of her hand.
He sits beside Nonna on the sofa.He tells her he left school three years ago, that he’s about to finish his carpentry apprenticeship.
Any minute now Nonna will start shooting her death glares, won’t she?She’ll do the maths and protect me from the evil intentions of an older man hellbent on destroying my future.Instead, she sits there, nodding and asking questions that give the appearance of her being interested in everything he says, and the scary thing is I honestly believe that she’s genuine.She’s making a real effort not to drop Italian words in her sentences.And damn him to hell, he’s being very respectful and has impeccable manners.
There’s the banging of Dad’s work boots on the stairs.
‘So, you’ve met Paul, Mum?’asks Dad.‘He’s giving us a hand with the cellar; the Dirty Three aren’t much chop in the building game.’
I roll my eyes.‘You don’t think it’s time you stop calling us that, Dad?’
‘Piacere?’Paul turns to my grandmother.He’s completely stuffed up with the pronunciation, but Nonna takes his outstretched hand.
‘I am very happy to meet you too.’
Paul walks across my living room and bends to pull on his boots.‘Marry him,’ Nonna says to me in Italian.I have a family full of comedians.
