Free Looking for Alibrandi by Melina Marchetta Page B

the looks of things, and he should go far,” I said stiffly.
    “Oh, really?”
    “You don’t believe me?”
    “You spoke to him today, didn’t you?”
    “You did too, didn’t you?”
    “I asked first.”
    I shrugged. “We made our positions clear.”
    “Knowing Michael’s tact, I’m sure he told you he was glad you weren’t in his life.”
    “I told him the same.”
    “Are you upset?”
    “Don’t be silly, Mama. I just hope he doesn’t go around upsetting you.”
    I pretended to be interested in the scene on television.
    She pulled me back and held her cheek against mine.
    “You’re not so tough, Alibrandi. I can see through you.”
    “I can see through you too, Alibrandi. I’m thinking the shithead is probably going to want kids now and why not then and you’re thinking he will marry someone else one day and why didn’t he come back to marry you?” I said. “All I can come up with is that women keep their brains in their heads and men keep theirs in their pants.”
    She laughed and hugged me closer. “It’s his loss, kiddo.”
    I turned around to try and look at her.
    “It was so weird, Mama. I had it planned out so differently in my mind. I think it was too neat and tidy.”
    “Things don’t turn out the way you expect them to.”
    I took her hand from around my chest and played with the ringless fingers. “Can you answer something for me? The truth. By eliminating me out of the picture you won’t hurt me, okay? I just want you to tell me how you wanted your life to turn out when you were seventeen.”
    “Josie, I like my life . . .”
    “Mama,” I sighed, closing my eyes. “I’m not saying that you don’t. I just want to know what you dreamt of when you were seventeen. I dream of being successful and of falling in love with someone with money. Of someone loving me. Of having two children. One boy and one girl. What did you dream of?”
    She smiled and sat back. She kind of reminded me of Anna. Such pensive, peaceful people. How Mama could have come from Nonna Katia and Nonno Francesco and borne a child with my personality confuses me.
    “I dreamt of marrying a man who didn’t necessarily have to have money, but who would take care of me. We’d talk a lot. Talk so much. We’d have four children. I wanted lots of girls. I love little girls.” She smiled. “The most important thing was that he would like me and my children would like me. That’s what I dreamt of, Josie.”
    “Was the man Michael Andretti?”
    She nodded.
    “What a simple dream.”
    “Simple dreams are the hardest to come true.”
    I shrugged and she entwined her fingers in mine.
    “How about pizza?”
    “Pan-fried,” I insisted.
    “Supreme with pineapple.”
    “Mama, we’re Italians. Italians don’t have pineapple on their pizza,” I said in disgust.
    She laughed and reached across for the phone while we continued arguing about the pizza.

Seven
    WE NEVER DID go away at Easter. We did the same old thing that we do every year and spent the day with my grandmother’s family at Robert’s place. I didn’t even get any Easter eggs. Just stuff for my hope chest. It’s so exciting receiving tablecloths and crocheted doilies while everyone else is eating chocolate bunnies.
    I thought about the chest while I was sitting on the verandah on Wednesday night. The way my mother’s relatives had looked at me pointedly when they told her how grown-up I was now.
    If life were a silent movie I’d be able to see the captions under their faces. “A boyfriend next,” Cousin Maria’s pointed look would say. “Yes, then a three-year courtship,” Cousin Camela would indicate by nodding her head. “On her twenty-first she could have her engagement party as well,” Zia Patrizia would display with a proud smile. Mama and I would be the heroines who gasp in dismay.
    Sitting outside with the sun going down, among the changing colors of autumn leaves, and feeling the breeze on my face made it all seem so frivolous and