The Painter & The Pianist

xiii.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Monserrat's nerves were shot, he felt completely overwhelmed by the commitment he was about to make. "Okay Amadeus, be proper for once." Monserrat held the dainty hand of Amadeus as he pleaded.

"Do you really think my parents would let me grow up to not know how to act proper?" Amadeus' words didn't entirely convince Monserrat. "Just, keep an open mind."

The door opened to reveal a maid. She was maybe in her early fifties, and her skin was freckled in a way that it matched her curly short faded red hair. "Oh, Monserrat! Nice to see j'you brought j'our little friend over." She had a strange accent, making it almost impossible to tell where she was from.

"Well, everyone was dying to meet him, Your Highness." He gave her a confident smile. "I couldn't disappoint!" She moved off to the side, and as they passed, she admired both boys.

Amadeus' face scrunched up in confusion. 'Your Highness? What an odd name to call your housemaid,' he thought. Monserrat led him into the fore room, as he gestured with his hands. "Well, this is it. We can totally leave now if you'd like..."

"MONSERRAT, YOU'RE HOME!"

Amadeus turned, startled. A woman with short, auburn hair waltzed into the room. "Oh, hi!" she exclaimed as she swung towards Amadeus. "Monserrat, did you invite your friend for dinner?" Her voice echoed throughout the capacious space; Amadeus could practically feel the sound waves roll across the room. Monserrat brought his hand to the nape of his neck and scratched it nervously. "Uh, no, but I suppose he is now. Mom, this is Amadeus."

"Oh please, call me Martina! Come on into the kitchen, Mila is making tacos with kale and pickled red onions."

"Tacos! Sounds good to me," he said, faking enthusiasm. Amadeus watched Martina walk into the large kitchen and he tugged on Monserrat's sleeve. "Hey, come here for a minute," he whispered.

He looked Monserrat in the eyes intensely. "Are...your Moms...gay?"

"Uh," Monserrat stuttered. Suddenly, he heard the front door open swiftly. "Darlings, I'm home!"

It was Monserrat's father, Matteo. Amadeus spun around to find a tall man, who wore a navy blue Kiton suit. "Hello, son. Who's this?"

"Hello, Mr. Castellani. I'm Amadeus Basch, Monserrat's boyfriend," he said, with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Matteo laughed. "Nice to meet you, son. Let's see what we're having for dinner,"

"WE'RE HAVING TACOS!" Martina sang from the kitchen. Monserrat could only imagine the gigantic hand motions she was creating. Matteo shook his head with a chuckle, "She's always like this."

Amadeus felt overwhelmed by all of the movement in the house. Monserrat's cheeks were beet red as he followed his father into the kitchen.

"Hey, Mimi. Smells good in here," he said to Mila, who was chopping kale leaves quite furiously. "Thanks, sweetheart! Come and help, Monserrat." Monserrat made his way over to the sink and began washing his hands. "You can help too if you want." She gave a pleasant smile at Amadeus.

Amadeus' face turned red, he was still reeling from everything that had just happened. "O-okay," He quickly moved toward the sink as Monserrat moved away from it. "Okay, what's my job, Mimi?" She examined his hands until she was satisfied. "You're preparing the red onion." She smiled and gingerly pointed toward the cutting board and knife.

Amadeus scrubbed his hands and made his way to Mila. "Mrs. Castellani, um, what's my job?" She turned toward him, her blonde ponytail swayed as she moved. He was stunned to find that she had two different colored eyes, one blue and one green. Her cheeks were decorated with freckles that bridged across her nose.