Mamma returns home with the agreed Taco Bell takeaway.
"Devo ammettere che ha un profumo delizioso (I have to admit it smells delicious)," Mom says as she enters the kitchen.
"Deve avere lo stesso sapore (Must taste the same as well)," I reply weakly.
"Ehi, stai bene (Hey, you ok)?"
"Si (Yeah)."
"Quindi vai a apparecchiare la tavola (Then go and set the table)."
I obediently shuffle to the table and lay out the mats, tissues and cutlery. In the middle, I place a scented candle and I light it. Immediately, the sweet lavender aroma swifts through the air.
"Pensavo che la candela profumata fosse solo per occasioni speciali (I thought the scented candle was only for special occasions)."
"Mangiare bene il nostro primo fast food americano è un'occasione special (Well eating our first American fast food is a special occasion)."
"L'ultima volta che ho controllato, il mio compleanno non è stato considerato un'occasione special (Last time I checked, my birthday wasn't considered a special occasion)."
"Sì e non lo è ancora (Yeah and it's still isn't)."
My mum elbows me sharply, laughing.
"Sei così infantile. Adesso siediti (You're so childish. Now sit down)."
We both sit down at the neatly-laid-out table and Mamma brings out the packaging of food.
"So do you want a taco or burrito first?"
"Taco."
She passes my taco and brings out another one for herself.
"Let's eat at the same time," I suggest," Three. Two. One. Taco Time!"
At the same time, we sink our teeth in the delicate and delicious taco.
"So good," I compliment.
"It's ok."
The mini burritos were even better that even Mom had to admit its succulence. Meanwhile, I want to tell my mum I want to play basketball again and join the team at school but I don't know how to start.
"It was fun, you know," I say uncertainly.
"What?"
"Playing...basketball...at the park."
"Hmm," Mamma answers, trying to sound careless but I hear the happy, victorious hint to her voice.
"I want to play basketball again," I blurt out so quickly.
Mom is no longer concentrating on her burrito. There's a mixture of shock and joy written all over her face.
"You mean it?" she whispers so that I can just about hear her.
"Yeah...and I want to join the team at school."
In a second, my mum is no longer sitting on her chair and is hugging me so tight that I can barely breathe and powdering me with delicate kisses.
"I'm still unsure about it," I admit truthfully.
"It's totally normal."
"And it's going to be hard getting back in the system."
"Luna, look at me."
I stare at her straight away.
"Remember this: It will be hard but work and help from others can get it done."
YOU ARE READING
The Immigrant Who Played Basketball
General FictionShe was and Italian Mixed Race Girl, with a black mom. She was looked down on and insulted by the residents of her town, who said she couldn't do anything. But she never listened when it came to playing basketball, the sport that transported her awa...
