Page 26 of Summer, in Between
‘I’m sorry?’Paul lifts his head from where he’s crouched.
‘She said “what time would you like to have lunch?”’says Mum.
‘In around forty-five,’ Dad follows Paul down the stairs, Tommy behind them, swinging on the railings.No wonder that kid’s constantly crying at the bottom of the stairs.
‘He’s a good person,’ says Nonna.‘He has respect.Never give your heart to anyone with no respect.’
‘Are you kidding me?’I throw my arms out in exasperation.‘Not even a week ago you gave me a headache, expressly forbidding me to even consider having a boyfriend.Now you’re telling me to give my heart to some shithead that’s here to work with Dad?That you’ve known for less than two minutes?’
‘Not a shithead.You’re the shithead if you think he’s a shithead.’She points her finger at me as I snigger.Shithead sounds hilarious coming out of her mouth.‘You could do a lot worse,principessa.’
‘That’s the other thing, Nonna.Stop with theprincipessacrap.I’m not a child.Anyway, this is a ridiculous conversation.’
‘Who are you calling ridiculous?’Nonna positively bristles.If she were a cat, her tail would have bushed, and she’d be clawing my eyes out.As it is, the vein in her temple is throbbing.
‘Nobody is calling anyone anything,’ says Mum.‘Enough, Cat!’
‘Me?What about your mother?’
‘I cannot believe the mouth on this one,’ Nonna says to Mum.‘If she were my daughter, I’d be ashamed.If I ever spoke to my grandmother like this, I would have been hit with a belt and locked in the cellar.’
‘Well, her father is building a cellar right now.I’ll make sure he puts a decent lock on it.’
‘No need for threats, people,’ I say.‘Nonna, all these years of you nagging me to tears has finally paid off.I’ve decided you’re right.I intend to embrace a lifetime of celibacy.Thank you.’I curtsey and go upstairs to the kitchen.
‘Celibacy is for the old,’ Nonna calls after me.She’s certainly changed her tune.It only took a couple of garbled, mispronounced words in Italian.
‘How’s that for ironic,’ I say to Mum from the kitchen.‘She’s on my back about studying hard so I can be independent and now she’s marrying me off.’
‘That’s the patriarchy, Bella,’ says Mum.‘And you thought it was bad when she wouldn’t let you in the street when the boys were out riding their bikes.’
12
I’M lying on my bedtrying to read and failing dismally at forgetting that the hottest of the hot is beneath myfreakin’house when Mum knocks on my door.
‘Lunch, Bella.’
