A Trip Down Memory Lane by Amicia Bianchi (classic fiction .txt) 📕

and an italian accent, there was none like it, soft yet firm; enveloping you like a warm blanket.

 

"They're fine don't worry about it now that they've made it, this isn't the time to perform an inquistion on them. Surely they can be pardoned, as the guests of honor we wouldn't have an occasion to be gathered today if not for this two. We've come to celebrate these children and their accomplishment not to catechise them so let's just get on with dinner."

 

At the other end of the tablehis grandmother, Good Old Grandmother Judice as we had nicknamed her, sat looking priggishly disconcerted and scowling. She prided herself on being proper and seeing as the rest of us were always disappointingly not, she perpetually seemed to have a disapproving scowl.

 

Soon everyone started talking amongst themselves once again, not too worried about where we had been. All of a sudden his phone vibrated with a text message and after reading it he started texting them back. Curious I peered over his shoulder, "oh hey you spelled that word wrong and the sentence before it doesn't sound quite right," I told him.

 

"And remind me why I should take your advice when you're all over me," he gripped.

 

"It doesn't make sense and you're the one texting I'm not," I grumbled sitting back in my chair again. "And by the way the ring box is stabbing my leg why didn't you put it in your jacket pocket, the poking is making me nervous," I lowered my voice so only he could hear me but if he did he didn't answer. Suddenly my phone vibrated and once I checked I found it was a message from him,

 

Well it's too late to move it now…

 

"Why would you text me when I'm sitting right next to you," I whispered.

 

"Because I can," he whispered back.

 

I sighed, "You should've at least let me see it," I said after a bit of silence.

 

For a second time he gave no answer instead a little while later my phone vibrated again and I knew that it was him.

 

I ignored it, "would you stop that, I'm right here," not listening he continued tapping away on his phone and I eventually put my phone back in my purse.

 

After sending me about five messages or so he stopped but even after that he was still texting someone else.

 

"Who are you texting now, is it that chick you were talking to the other night, who is she anyway," I whispered after a while. This time when I tried to look over his shoulder he turned the screen away from my line of sight.

 

"And when did this happen," he asked still texting on his phone.

 

"The other night like two weeks ago, you were talking to some chick on the phone when you thought I was asleep," I hissed.

 

"You're making this up," he finally looked away from him phone.

 

"Am I? You probably have her number in you contacts,"

 

"What was her name, then? And we'll see if it's there," he taunted.

 

"I don't know you never said her name but you sure kept calling her babe,"

 

He laughed, "Hah, now I know you're full of it. Are you sure you really heard this," putting down his phone.

 

"I know what I heard; I was lying in bed right next to you how could I not have heard you," I didn't bother whispering as I narrowed my eyes at him.

 

When I noticed some of the people at the table were repeated looking over at us I got up and excuse myself from the table. Following suit he was right on my heels when I spun on him once we reached the living room. "Now we're alone so just come out with it,"

 

"Come out with what," he asked perplexed.

 

"Look it's only me so you don't have to hide anything. You can tell me what's going on," I insisted.

 

"There is nothing going on, you're just paranoid,"

 

"No I'm not I know something's up and there is another woman involved so I want to know who she is." I was getting rather cross because of his refusal to answer my question and lack an explanation. At least if there was no chick there should be some sort of explanation for this.

 

"And you called her babe so she's got to be somebody," I added.

 

He chuckled shaking his head, "I don't call anybody that so who else is there left, think about it,"

 

"Who is babe because you don't call me that and if you did I would personally help you get to the hospital so they can examine your head," I said cracking my knocks just to show how I'd get him there. "So just come clean and tell me who the chick is," I demanded.

 

"You're insane, there is no chick," he answered.

 

"I'm not going to play games with you so don't give me the run around, I know that you were obviously speaking to someone. I'm only going to ask one more time, who is babe," I sneered.

 

"I was talking to you. I was trying to call you. Since you didn't answer when I was attempting to talk to you I figured you were asleep already..." he replied.

 

"I think this ought to serve as a lesson don't ever call me babe or baby-"

 

"I don't understand why you're still mad about this it's not like you're ever going to leave me," he stated cockily.

 

"And what's that supposed to mean? While that might be true if you think for a second it's because I love you, you're mistaken. There are other reasons why someone would stay in a relationship with someone like you," I retorted.

 

"Rationalize it however you want, the truth is still the same but if you're not going to leave then we have to get this on some type of contract, we've got to make it official," he announced.

 

"That's fine but since this is the only time I'd get the opportunity to see this you've got to go full out on this one," shrugging he got down, on one knee, in front of me.

 

"Will you be my permanent concubine," he asked looking up at me.

 

I smiled down at him, "no," I deadpanned.

 

"Quit playing around," he warned.

 

"It'll be the same answer until I see some incentive, like a ring or..." making a face he reached in his pocket and pulled out a small black jewelry box. When he opened it I almost swooned, "meh, could have got a bigger diamond..." He started putting the ring on my finger when I suddenly pulled my hand back, "wait, is it even real because anything agree upon will be null and void the moment I find out you got this out of the gumball machine for a quarter."

 

He sighed as he rose, "You know, I forgot all about those. It would have saved me a ton of money."

 

I laughed, "You see this is a prime example of what I was talking about earlier," when he furrowed his eyebrows I held up my hand and pointed to the ring. "Collecting no digging involved," I elucidated to which he simply nodded looking solemn and lost in thought.

 

"Before we continue here and anything else is said or done I have something to say. Because no matter what happens in the future I want you to be able to look back at today and remember this moment. And when you remember I don't want you to have any doubts about how I feel for you going into this."

 

"Alright, well let me have it then and don't hold back," I encouraged.

 

"I hate you, concubine," he told me seriously. Hearing soft yet outraged gasps I fought back the urge to laugh.

 

"Awww, I hate you too, my tyrannical hobo," I replied with a smile. He was beaming down at me and I could see their barely contained outraged reactions reflected in his eyes.

 

He leaned in close, "concubine, you did it," he whispered.

 

"It was your plan, you ol' fraud," I smiled at him before he kissed it right off.

Chapter 9: The Wedding

 

Friday July 25, 2008

 

He squeezed my hand and brought me out of my reverie.

 

"Can I ask you something?" he asked after a pause.

 

"Sure," I answered

 

"It's something that's been bothering me," he continued.

 

"What is it?" I inquired curiously.

 

"Does this glove go all the way up your arm?" I couldn't help but to laugh at him.

 

"Yes, it stops a bit past my elbow, is that really what's been bothering you?" I told him giggling.

 

"Yes, I'm being serious, because I'd thought I was about to get some skin on skin action," he complained.

 

"I'm sorry to disappoint," I apologized.

 

"Why do I not believe that?" he remarked dryly,

 

"If it helps, it wasn't my idea to wear them," I offered, to which I heard a chuckle.

 

"Obviously, sounds like something my mom would have come up with to appease my grandma," he knew his family too well.

 

Barbra was his dad's mother and would have a tantrum if she didn't get her way. Now that she's old and has a boat load of health issues his mother has taken it upon herself to help keep her calm since her fits never end well for her, health wise.

 

"That's exactly it, old Barbra nearly threw a fit at the bridal store because the dress we all agreed on was strapless,"

 

"Strapless, huh," I smiled, I knew he was trying to picture it in his mind.

 

"Anyway, so your mom made a deal with her and I just found out yesterday that old barbs thought I should wear gloves,"

 

"Then you won't mind if I take one," without waiting on my reaction he yanked the glove off.

 

"No, what am I supposed to tell old barbs and, you know, as soon as she sounds the alarm your mom won't be far behind," I tried to talk him out of it. It was the best I could do because under normal circumstances I would have just went out there and took it.

 

"That you lost it…"

 

"Which is a lie,"

 

"On the contrary, actually, you did. To me. If you remember, you still owed me from when you lost at strip poker," he explained with a smug tone and I knew he was smiling.

 

"How can someone still owe you from that…" I had a vague notion as to where this was going.

 

"Right after you lost you went to sleep," he answered.

 

Finally remembering I laughed, "yeah, I did didn't I?" I admitted teasingly.

 

"See? Everything comes around full circle," he said ignoring my taunting.

 

"And if she still has a problem?" I inquired more out of curiosity than worry.

 

"I'll take care of it, I promise, there's nothing to worry about," even as he said it I knew that it was the truth. Despite his grandma's barbed wire like attitude, hence my nickname, she had a weakness; her grandson.

 

For whatever reason, she listened to him and he could get more accomplished talking to her a few minutes than anybody else could in a week. I admit, she likes me enough that I've been able to calm her down a few times and convince her a time or two. That success could probably be attributed to the fact that she somewhat sees me as an extension of her grandson.

 

When he took me to meet her, for the first time, he'd told me about her temper tantrums. He'd purposefully scared