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“Not much has changed.” Marco points to the lingering scab under Castor’s eye.
I take my seat next to Castor, noting the updated wall panel and new painting hanging up across from me – right next to my senior high school photo. Castor’s in great spirits, like he really wants this to work. It makes me melt inside, so I grab his arm with both of mine and tug him in for a quick kiss.
“Do you have to do that shit in front of me?” Marco growls, and we both laugh at him.
“What? It’s just a little bit of young love.” Randy points his newspaper at us and slaps Marco lightly on the arm, taking his seat.
“C’mere for a second, I brought something I want you to see,” I say.
“Hm?” Castor lets me pull him by the hand into the living room, out of sight of the others.
“Just… stand still a second.” I hold my breath while unraveling my painting of him, watching his reaction. It’s deadpan, which makes a pit form in my stomach.
“Gia…” He takes it slowly from my grasp. “It’s fucking amazing.”
“Shh!” I say, unable to contain my smile. “Really?”
“So badass. Hands down, best gift anyone has ever gotten me.”
I melt inside, then more playfulness comes out. “Who said it was for you?”
He frowns. “Jerk.”
We both laugh as he gives me a big hug and continues to gush about my work.
“Okay, no more in front of the others. I’ll get embarrassed. Read the note later.” I blush as we head back to our seats.
“Dinner is served!” Mom comes out with a delicious-looking tray of ziti that makes my mouth water.
We all start digging in. Castor smacks my hand when I go for one of the spatulas and picks it up himself. He serves me, then in a sign of truce, serves my brother. Whatever’s left of my heart melts into the rest of my organs. I’m done.
“How cute is this?” Mom squint-smiles at us. “You know, the table used to feel bigger fifteen years ago.”
“It’s from all that spaghetti you fed us.” Castor taps his rock-hard stomach.
“Oh yeah, what’s my excuse?” Randy pats his round belly, and we all laugh. Well, Marco snickered, which I’ll take as a win.
“You know, I was getting worried that nobody would be good enough for this one’s baby sister.” Mom points her fork at Marco, then takes a big bite of her food. “I knew he might be the problem when he was even unsure about you.”
“Oh really?” Castor arcs his eyebrow. “What could he possibly have said about his oldest friend?”
“Oh, no, no, no.” She slaps at the air. “I won’t be lighting any fires at the table.”
The tone is light, and I feel like I’m in some surreal dream that’s playing out without me having to interact at all.
“No, no, it’s alright, Ma.” Marco waves her away, then hoots when she widens her eyes for him to stop. “I said you’re always too busy playing with your jewelry to ever take care of my sister.” He looks at his finger like he’s a girl ogling her diamond ring, and the whole table laughs.
Did my brother… just make a joke?
“Shut the heck up.” Castor pushes him, holding back all the curses he wants to hurl.
When the laughter dies, Randy wipes his mouth and nods at us. “So, how did you two meet up again? Did cupid over here give the shot.” He thumbs to Marco.
“He was more like Tony Montana,” I finally join the conversation, stealing one of Castor’s lines from way back.
“Hah!” Randy almost chokes, then stares at Marco. “I can kind of see it. Tony and Manolo, Italian style.”
Marco nods at Castor mock-threateningly.
