La Madre Italiana

Lin nodded defiantly, whereas mine was a meek response. I was still a little groggy from staying up too late, and I hadn’t had good dreams in the time I was asleep.

All I remembered was that it included spoons, dogs and balls with jaws.

I snapped back to reality when I heard a commanding voice talking in a clipped manner.

“I tell you, Antonio, is no good. That girl is no good!”

“Mama, stà calma,” I heard Tony’s voice say, and I turned around too see a gray – haired woman garbed wholly in black. She was peering at Lin.

Needless to say I was a little flustered – she was less than a foot away from me.

How come I didn’t hear her? My skills are starting to get dull…

“Antonio, you lissen heer,” the woman snapped, pulling Tony close by his shirt collar. She looked undaunted, “I am your madre, and what I say go.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yes, mama.”

“Quello è il mio ragazzo,” she said, satisfied, and patted him on the chest. She then turned to lock eyes with me.

“Who this lovely bella?”

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