Page 221 of The Wicked
“Tell us,” Gran Louisa urged, excitement in her voice.
I caught Gemma’s curious stare on me, and I could tell she had grown very interested in the topic.
I cleared my throat. “It’s—I, yes, I have someone, but not a girlfriend, just—”
“A fuck friend,” Gran Louisa said.
“No,” I blurted immediately, and Gemma choked out a laugh. “She’s not a…that,Gran Louisa; she’s a friend that I—”
“Fuck?” Gran Louisa completed again.
“It is complicated.” I settled with that.
“Ahhhhh,” she and Gemma drawled at the same time.
I shook my head, setting the final plate and utensils while Gemma placed the covered bowl of food in the middle of the table, and from the look of it, they had made fried spaghetti; I could smell the hot sauce even from the covered bowl.
She placed a jug of water by the side of the fake plastic fruit bowl at the center of the table.
“Let us settle, say prayer, and ignore table manner as we talk about Elio fuck friend but complicated.”
Gemma chuckled as we three sat around the small table like a religious Italian family, saying our prayers before we ate.
The nostalgia hitting me from left to right when we finished praying had me soaking in this moment.
“I hope you have a warrior’s tongue,” Gemma said excitedly and worriedly.
“I don’t know yet,” I responded.
“No worries, it is only spaghetti,” Gran Louisa said as Gemma began plating the food.
“Yeah, Nonna, spaghetti all’assassina. With extra Nonna spicy ingredients. Nothing much.”
“What. You suppose to eat every meal like it is your last.”
“And that is why I never let you cook,” Gemma said, settling when she was done plating.
“Okay, children.” Gran Louisa grinned. “Dig into hell.”
We did dig in, and after three forkfuls, I couldn’t feel my tongue. Gemma’s face had gone red, and Gran Louisa’s lips trembled.
“Okay… I think… I think we stop now,” Gran Louisa said. “Too… hot.”
Gemma dropped her fork with a loud clank, getting off the chair and to the kitchen sink before a gurgling sound filled the space.
I refilled my glass of water for the third time and gulped it all down.
It still didn’t help because I was sweating like the spice was all over my body.
“I will… order pizza and increase air conditioner,” Gran Louisa said, getting up from the table and heading to the living room.
I blew out a breath, checking my phone to see that I’d spent close to an hour here, and I didn’t even want to leave yet.
Standing up, I decided to clear the table, even though my head felt woozy and my stomach was hot.
“I’ll help out,” Gemma said, and I almost laughed at how red her eyes were. “My grandmother is crazy.”
“I agree,” I admitted as we cleared the table together, and as time went by, the spice started to fade into a dull tingle, thanks to the change of temperature in the house and the fact that we had stopped very early into the meal.
