Sibling Banter

Every Saturday, no exceptions, Corbetta held the local market in Piazza 1° Maggio - rows of mobile stands, filled with crowds of locals, were the weekly norm.

As soon as you were in the vicinities, you would be flooded with a range of smells: fish, arancini, roasted meats, cheeses, salami, and fresh fruits. It varied every few steps, with the culinary stands being mixed amongst stalls that sold homeware, tapestries, toys, and clothes.

I couldn’t help but enjoy the chaotic order everyone seemed to innately know how to navigate through. You could find preteens buying 10€ shirts at a Chinese run stall. Nonne bargaining food prices with the local farmers. Children asking their parents to buy yet another piece of colourful plastic, which would probably entertain them for no more than a handful of hours.

I usually didn’t buy a thing, and today would be no different, vastly preferring to embrace the energy and the presence of these strangers I’d known most of my life.

Again, it was comforting to me. I felt that, since I struggled to socialise one-on-one, immersing myself into the regular crowd was probably one of the easiest ways for me to feel a part of the community.

I took a deep breath.

Once again, I felt content and light at heart.

My next stop on Saturdays was, of course, Marilyn’s. But, only long enough to say hi - on weekends, it was far too hectic to get any of my work done there.

“Mikey!” Kami greeted me, as the bell chimed above my head “All good?”

She was balancing two trays, one per hand, something she should’ve known not to attempt anymore - but hey, it was part of her charm.

“All good, thank you” I nodded at the trays, diverted smile stretching across my face “You seem to be handling yourself well”

“I know, right?” she beamed, proud “Not even a single accident today!”

“It’s only half past nine, Kami” I pointed out “There’s plenty of time”

Her brow rose with playful offence, eyes darting at the trays in her hands, likely considering whether to whack me with one or not.

“Yo! Waitress!”

We both turned to the well-known voice.

“Jeffrey,” I deadpanned “don’t be a jerk with family”

“Urgh! Mikey, she knows I’m joking - right, Kami?”

She did not look amused, glaring him up and down, until she turned back to me.

“So, cappuccino, as usual?”

“Yes, please” I politely nodded “Thank you, Kami”

She strutted straight to the bar.

“Hey! What about my order?” Jeff barked, but she ignored him.

Sitting at his table, I looked around the busy café. Everyone who couldn’t enjoy coffee throughout the week, would flood the place and get their fill. Families with little kids. The regular elders who jealously defended their usual seats. People going round, from table to table, embracing each other with the same dramatic flare as though a decade had passed since their last encounter. The common uniting feature, however, was that every customer took part in the unofficial competition of who could be the loudest.

“So~” Jeff called back my attention “What’s new with you?”

Viola came by and placed my cappuccino and assorted mini-cookies on the table - she shrugged back at my thanks and returned to the till where Kami was still visibly annoyed.

“The usual, there’s nothing new” I took a sip of my coffee “You should probably apologise to Kami later, that was pretty rude of you”

“Yeah, yeah, I will” he slouched into his fist, tapping a finger on the table “Seriously, you have nothing going on? Nothing you wanna share?”

“You know I stick to my routines, Jeff”

“I know, but like, what’s on your mind?”

“This is odd coming from you”

“I-”

He tensed up for a moment, to then deflate into his chair.

“I was just thinking, after the other day… You’re always listening to me and I’m not great at being a listener, or at using words, or- But, you don’t exactly share either, so I-”

He stopped - I knew he wasn’t done, though.

“I was wondering if that… bothered you? I know I can be a handful-”

Pulling out his childhood necklace from under his shirt, he began twirling it with his fingers - he was nervous.

“You’re not a handful” I smiled, hoping to reassure him “Don’t worry, your brother leads a pretty predictable life, not much to talk about”

“I know, but-!” gosh, he looked so much like Mom “You know what? Nevermind” he shot up, frowning “Gotta meet up with the cumpa… See you around-” he turned to the bar “Bye, Kami! And, sorry for earlier”

Before she could reply, he stomped through the sea of customers and disappeared into the high street. I was sure that, if what he had to say was really important, he’d find the right words to express himself properly, in good time.

As I ate the last of my mini-cookies, a voice - much deeper than Jeff’s - called out for Kami.

“Tappo!” she cried back, bumping into and knocking over a chair “Oh, mado’! Lemme get this-”

She set it back up and ran to her little brother - although, ‘little’ was definitely not the word you’d describe him with. He was only twenty-one, but he was barely less than two meters tall. Long lanky, but very toned, limbs wrapped around his petite older sister.

“It still amazes me that you haven’t murdered a customer in some insane accident, yet” he cackled, adjusting the leather goggles he used for farming gigs to keep his hair away from his eyes “Especially with how busy it’s been - more customers equals higher risks!”

“Hey!” she punched his chest with her tiny slender fist “Take that back, culo!”

“Oh, come on!” he playfully pushed her shoulder “You literally just had that chair pleading for its life!”

“Not true! You stronzino…” Kami huffed and crossed her arms “Well, I have work to do - you know, more important stuff compared to wasting my time on a lowlife, such as yourself”

“Ow, ouch-!” Tappo feigned pain in his heart “That’s it, you’ve killed me… How could you-!?”

His sister conceded a small smirk.

“Ok, ok…” she shook her head “Ascolta, either you get your butt on a seat, or get out of here-”

“Yeah” Viola appeared out of nowhere, making both Pambabay siblings jump “You’re distracting the staff”

That’s when I noticed that Cri had been hiding behind a column, watching the scene, empty tray nervously clutched in her hand.

Oh, so that’s who Tappo was distracting.

“Cri” I called out.

Startled, she turned to me, face bright pink, usual composure gone. She threw a last glance at Tappo and used her free hand to hastily pat her cheeks. In merely seconds, she’d regained control of herself, yet awkwardly stumbled to my table.

“Yes, Michael?” her standard smile was struggling to be genuine.

“I didn’t know you have a crush on Tappo”

She froze, but didn’t flinch.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about” she finally blurted.

“It’s ok” I raised my shoulders “I won’t say a word”

“Sorry Michael, I’m really not understanding” her forced steady tone insisted “Are you finished with this?”

I looked down at my ceramic coffee cup - huh, I’d already emptied it.

“Um, yes-”

With her typical methodic grace, she quickly picked everything off the table and placed them on her tray.

“-Thank you, Cri”

“No worries” a flustered sigh escaped her “Also, Françoise and Chen are both upstairs, if you wanted to see them”

Well, I did have a habit of visiting them on the weekends, but usually under Aunt Cel’s schedules for everyone.

…….

Out the backdoor and up the stone stairs, I took in the comforting view of the private courtyard, behind my family’s coffee shop - much smaller than mine, and darker, as it wasn’t easy for the sun to shed its rays across it. The years of consistent humidity had made the paint cracks in the walls severely deep, cement crumbling, while the lack of light kept the dim ambiance cooled.

One couldn’t refrain from noting how this made the efforts of those few determined flowers to grow in between the crevices of the stone paved ground and all around the manhole in the centre, particularly worthy of appreciation and admiration.

Once I’d made it to the balcony, I knocked on the old wooden door - the handle soon twitched, as I heard the clacks of several locks becoming undone on the other side.

“Zi~?” Françoise dragged, with her strong French accent.

“It’s me, mamy”

“Ah! Mikole! Come in!”

Françoise was Aunt Cel’s mother, a Parisian lady who had moved to Italy for love back in the fifties. However, the marriage hadn’t been as successful as the coffee shop she’d opened. She was my acquired grandmother, but she’d be cross if you called her that. According to her, ‘mamy’ was far more appropriate - it didn’t feel as old as ‘nonna’.

The entrance of her apartment smelled of the years of shoes kept piled in the closet, unlike the room it led into, the kitchen, where warm whiffs of fresh bread and chocolate would wrap around you like a blanket.

Most of the furniture in the house was ancient, handmade and carved from single chunks of wood. Termites would add new holes in them every now and then, but mamy didn't mind, claiming they gave character to her belongings.

All walls were covered in pyrography art she’d made over the years, depicting either colourful copies of illustrations she’d loved from old children’s books, or imagery of Saint Mary and her infant son. Some were polished and finished, others only half sketched and left to be - however, “I’ll finish someday!” was what she was adamant to reiterate to any who asked.

“Are you hungry, mon grand?” she was already rummaging through her cupboards “Wanna hot chocolate? Some jam, butter, and bread?”

I accepted, simply because you didn’t say no to her when she offered food.

“Good, good” she nodded, satisfied “You are too skinny anyway, something sugary will do you some good!”

“Merci, mamy” I chuckled “I’ll go get Chen”

“Ah, oué! She needs to eat more, as well!”

Staying quiet, I let myself into the other room, Mermaid Melody blasting on Italia Uno - Chen kept her eyes glued to the TV screen, legs crossed on the wooden floor.

“Mikey!” she patted the space next to her “Come here-!”

I sat down where she’d told me to.

“-Watch this part!”

My nine-year-old cousin wasn’t shy when it came to sharing her interests, always loving and demanding attentive company.

“I like the blue one!” she’d pointed at the screen, proceeding to sing along to the songs, until-

“È pronto!” mamy announced, making Chen scramble up to the old chunky television, push the biggest button to turn it off, and then dash to the dining table.

The minute we both sat down, Lillian knocked at the door - perfect timing.

“Finally on break!” she exasperated “Please-! Feed me, mamy!”

“Of course, ma grande! Asseyes-toi ici!”

Lillian gasped and launched herself onto Chen, grabbing and kissing her cheeks - she’d always been an overly affectionate older sister, from the very first day Uncle Bill and Aunt Cel had adopted Chen, as an infant, from Cambodia.

“My baby~!” my older cousin squealed “How are you, my lil’ cutie-pa-tootie?”

“Urgh!” her little arms were flailing and failing at their goal of self-defence “Get off me!”

“Nope! You’re too cute for me to handle!” and yet, she took a seat, temporarily granting Chen some truce from her cuddles “What have you been up to?”

“Nothing”

“Pffft, right” Lils gave her a smug smile “What have you been up to?”

“Nothing!”

“Yeah, yeah… I bet you did at least one thing today. Like…” Lillian looked at me for help, so I nodded towards the other room “Watch TV! Did you watch TV?”

Chen rolled her eyes “Seh”

“Then you did do something!” Lils beamed “See?”

“Whatever-!” she dismissed, digging into a slice of butter and jam bread “You talk too much!”

“I talk because I care, you lil’ monkey”

The eldest sister ruffled Chen’s hair a bit, earning herself a loud “Not the hair!” and another little arm flail.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist~!” Lils shrugged, then turned to us “Gosh, Marilyn’s is such a madhouse today - like, I know it’s sunny, però aiuto!”

“That’s good, ma grande - it means business is good” mamy nodded, proud “Do you want some hot chocolate?”

“Yes, please!” my older cousin grinned “Sugar is what I need now, more than anything”

As we chatted and ate more than we needed to, I inhaled with depth and, for a moment, took in how much I loved my family. I was barely related to anyone by blood, but the consistency of my life and relationships with everyone here at Marilyn’s, made me feel safe.

I couldn’t ask for anything better.