she’s upset about something.
“Well, if you didn’t have to ask so many questions I wouldn’t yell. If you didn’t have to treat me like a baby, I wouldn’t yell,” Mama argued.
Nonna Katia was shaking her head.
“Well, I do not like it when you neglect Jozzie.”
“Neglect,” Mama shouted incredulously, clenching her fist. “You have the hide to say that I have neglected Josie? I have devoted my whole life to her, and the one day that I want to go out with people my age, you tell me I’m neglecting her?”
She looked at me, shaking with rage. It was as if she had worked herself up for a fight before she even got home.
“Have I ever neglected you, Josie?”
I looked bewildered and shook my head.
“Are you going out with a man?” I asked.
“People will talk, you know,” Nonna Katia said angrily. “They always talk and it is always me who suffers because of their talk, Christina. Always me.”
“Forget it,” Mama sighed, shaking her head. “Just forget I asked, Mama.”
“No, I will not forget it, Christina. Why do we always have to fight? All the time we fight and fight and fight,” Nonna Katia cried. “I am an old woman and I am tired of fighting.”
“And I am a young woman and I’m tired of being old,” Mama cried back. “I don’t need your permission to go out, Mama, but it’d be so good one day to do something without you making me feel as if it was wrong.”
“You are Jozzie’s mother. How do you tink Jozzie will feel that people are talking about her mother gallivanting around the place?”
“People? What people? Italians? Mama, I have already disgraced myself in their eyes and there will never be anything to change that, so who cares if they talk about me?”
“Christina, you always had to make tings more difficult for all of us. For once, tink of me.”
Mama walked into her room and Nonna Katia quickly followed.
“Don’t make tings worse, Christina. Do you tink I don’t know?”
“Know what?” Mama asked, swinging around.
“Michael Andretti, Christina. Do you tink I didn’t see what happened at my house the other day? I know who he is, Christina. I know it was him.”
“ ‘It was him’
what,
Mama? Say it. You know that he’s Josephine’s father. Why can’t you say it?”
“Why? Why him?” Nonna pleaded. “Why Pia Maria Andretti’s son? Why did you have to disgrace me wit Pia Maria Andretti’s son?”
I thanked God at that moment that I wasn’t named after my paternal grandmother.
“Does it matter whose son fathered Josephine seventeen years ago, Mama? Does it?” my mother yelled.
“I will never, ever have him in my house again,” Nonna spat out.
“Good, Mama. Now let me get dressed.”
“People will talk. They will talk for sure.”
“You know what I think?” Mama shouted. “I think you’re jealous, Mama. I think you’re jealous because you didn’t go out there and make anything of your life when Papa died. Because you didn’t mix and you wanted to so much, but you were scared that people would talk. Well, I’m not going to run my life by their rules. Things have changed. I remember when I gave birth to Josie you told me that I would never get married because no respectable man would marry a girl with a baby. Well, you’re wrong, Mama. Women with babies do get married these days. Women who are widows do go out and have better lives.”
“You don’t understand,” Nonna said.
“No. It’s you who doesn’t understand,” said Mama. “You never have understood what I feel or want in my life. Everyone’s opinion has always come before mine. Why can’t you understand how I feel for once, Mama? Just once.”
Nonna Katia had this strange, tired look on her face. She shook her head in despair.
“I understand, Christina, more than you tink I do.”
They didn’t say a word after that and Nonna Katia drove home, leaving Mama looking at me as if I was a dragon to slay.
“I’m going out tonight, Jose.” She
“Well, if you didn’t have to ask so many questions I wouldn’t yell. If you didn’t have to treat me like a baby, I wouldn’t yell,” Mama argued.
Nonna Katia was shaking her head.
“Well, I do not like it when you neglect Jozzie.”
“Neglect,” Mama shouted incredulously, clenching her fist. “You have the hide to say that I have neglected Josie? I have devoted my whole life to her, and the one day that I want to go out with people my age, you tell me I’m neglecting her?”
She looked at me, shaking with rage. It was as if she had worked herself up for a fight before she even got home.
“Have I ever neglected you, Josie?”
I looked bewildered and shook my head.
“Are you going out with a man?” I asked.
“People will talk, you know,” Nonna Katia said angrily. “They always talk and it is always me who suffers because of their talk, Christina. Always me.”
“Forget it,” Mama sighed, shaking her head. “Just forget I asked, Mama.”
“No, I will not forget it, Christina. Why do we always have to fight? All the time we fight and fight and fight,” Nonna Katia cried. “I am an old woman and I am tired of fighting.”
“And I am a young woman and I’m tired of being old,” Mama cried back. “I don’t need your permission to go out, Mama, but it’d be so good one day to do something without you making me feel as if it was wrong.”
“You are Jozzie’s mother. How do you tink Jozzie will feel that people are talking about her mother gallivanting around the place?”
“People? What people? Italians? Mama, I have already disgraced myself in their eyes and there will never be anything to change that, so who cares if they talk about me?”
“Christina, you always had to make tings more difficult for all of us. For once, tink of me.”
Mama walked into her room and Nonna Katia quickly followed.
“Don’t make tings worse, Christina. Do you tink I don’t know?”
“Know what?” Mama asked, swinging around.
“Michael Andretti, Christina. Do you tink I didn’t see what happened at my house the other day? I know who he is, Christina. I know it was him.”
“ ‘It was him’
what,
Mama? Say it. You know that he’s Josephine’s father. Why can’t you say it?”
“Why? Why him?” Nonna pleaded. “Why Pia Maria Andretti’s son? Why did you have to disgrace me wit Pia Maria Andretti’s son?”
I thanked God at that moment that I wasn’t named after my paternal grandmother.
“Does it matter whose son fathered Josephine seventeen years ago, Mama? Does it?” my mother yelled.
“I will never, ever have him in my house again,” Nonna spat out.
“Good, Mama. Now let me get dressed.”
“People will talk. They will talk for sure.”
“You know what I think?” Mama shouted. “I think you’re jealous, Mama. I think you’re jealous because you didn’t go out there and make anything of your life when Papa died. Because you didn’t mix and you wanted to so much, but you were scared that people would talk. Well, I’m not going to run my life by their rules. Things have changed. I remember when I gave birth to Josie you told me that I would never get married because no respectable man would marry a girl with a baby. Well, you’re wrong, Mama. Women with babies do get married these days. Women who are widows do go out and have better lives.”
“You don’t understand,” Nonna said.
“No. It’s you who doesn’t understand,” said Mama. “You never have understood what I feel or want in my life. Everyone’s opinion has always come before mine. Why can’t you understand how I feel for once, Mama? Just once.”
Nonna Katia had this strange, tired look on her face. She shook her head in despair.
“I understand, Christina, more than you tink I do.”
They didn’t say a word after that and Nonna Katia drove home, leaving Mama looking at me as if I was a dragon to slay.
“I’m going out tonight, Jose.” She
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