Chapter 3: An Overbearing Italian Mother

Mama looks in around Rob, her eyes nervously peering into the living room. I sheepishly wave to her. I see her eyes gleam with recognition, her head ducking back out of the doorway, before she pushes Rob out of the way with the door, lumbering in with a whole pantry’s worth of groceries and setting them on the counter.

“Children,” she yells, “get over here and help your mother with her groceries for dinner.”

We dutifully walk over and start putting things in the pantries. The pasta in the top cupboards, the cheese in the drawer in the fridge, and so on. I find my new height a bit of a help, there’s a lot less bending down than there used to be, and my brother puts away things on the high shelves anyways. All this time, I’m wondering what Mama wants to do, but considering that she cares little enough to make me put away groceries, well, at least it’s probably not anything too drastic.

Finally, the reusable burlap bags are all emptied and she puts them away in a cupboard beneath the sinks, dusting off her paws as she rests. She then looks at me for a few seconds again, then nods.

“You really are my daughter, huh?” she asks, “I was pretty confident when I saw you’ve got the same tail as me, but I wanted to be sure.”

“Yep, it’s me, Mama,” I reply, that same tail flitting nervously side to side, “I changed an hour or two ago, I think.”

“Oh my baby girl,” she cries, hugging me, her tail batting against my legs, “thank your brother for helping you out on short notice.”

“Thank you Rob,” I say awkwardly. He gives me a thumbs up.

“That’s my girl! Now, we’ve got to figure out what to do, is that right, because you’re worried about how your father is going to respond?”

“Is he downstairs or?” I ask nervously, looking towards the door instinctively.

“I raised you well enough to answer my questions,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “but to answer yours, no, I sent him on an errand because I ‘forgot’ the anchovies. He’s going to the other side of town for it  while we figure out what to do.”

“Thank you Mama, sorry,” I reply, “I am worried.”

She draws me closer into the hug, then lets go, smiling gently at me. She’s a few inches taller than me now, and I can tell she’s going to be having far too much fun with a new daughter in the household. I don’t exactly mind the new height difference, but knowing that look and where she’s made it before last, well, that was before my cousin’s wedding when she helped her try on fifty thousand dresses.

“Well,” she continues, “for now, based on how it goes in our family, we can just hole you up in your room and say you’re not feeling well, then it’ll be over tomorrow. Normally I’d cover up your scent, but it’s close enough to mine that I can just say I was helping you after you were ill.”

“...Oh,” I reply, my tail and ears drooping subconsciously, “that’ll do, I guess.”

“Oh my girl,” she replies, hugging me, “it’ll be alright, next month we’ll dress you up all pretty, I promise! And I don’t think your father will have any issues once I’ve warmed him up to the idea.”

“If you say so, Mama,” I reply, sighing, “I just wish there was a better use of my first night transforming. I remember when I was a kid and Vito changed, and we all went to Chinatown dressed up all nice.”

“That was a fun time! Do you want to do that again next month?” she asked, trying to change the subject from my worries, as she usually did.

“I guess, Mama,” I say, sighing, "does it really happen for longer each time?"

"Do you really need a reminder?" she asks, "well, alright, yes. Judging by how it went with your brothers, instead of just transforming for one night next month, it'll be three to four nights around the moon, and more every month after that. So be sure to plan for that."

"Don't we also get more wolfy characteristics in the meantime?"

"After a few months, usually, dear," she replies, "though your father swears his teeth were longer in human form after that second month. Regardless, we need to get you all ready for that!"

“So what you're saying is I’ll need measurements for the dresses for next month, right?”

“That you will! I’ll get my measuring tape out and take them,” she said, turning to Rob and looking at him, “you’re gonna go to your room while we do that, okay young man?”

“Yes Mama,” he replies, picking his phone off the couch where he’d left it and locking the door.

“Now, first things first, I’ve got to give you a name,” she says, “how about Teresa, like your nonna’s nonna?”

“That’s beautiful!” I gush, giggling as my tail wags, surprising myself at how gleeful I sound.

“I’m glad you like it, Teresa,” she says, giving my back a pat, “now, let’s get you out of those awful clothes.”

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“Hey, they were the best I could do,” I reply as she pull the shirt over my head.

She works tirelessly for a few minutes, taking measurements at every place along my torso, neck, shoulders, tail, legs, yelling at me every few minutes to stop fidgeting my tail. I decide it’s best to just hold it still while she’s working.

“Well, most of these probably won’t matter to you so I won’t bother you with ‘em until you want to go shopping on your own,” she says, putting down the notepad and pen she’d be using to record the measurements, “but since your brothers always asked, I figured I’d tell you, you’re 5’4” now.”

“5’4”? Really?” I ask, my heart making leaps in my chest.

“Yeah, you shrunk quite a bit, even though you were always one of the smaller ones anyways,” she replies.

“Runs in the family,” I reply, smirking at her equally small physique.

“Manners, young lady,” she said, snorting to suppress a chuckle, “I’ll have you know, I was 5’7” in my prime. You kids, you made me 5’5”. But I’m still taller than you are now.”

“Well, for tonight, at least,” I reply, winking.

“You really are too sassy for your own good, young lady,” she replies, taking an onion out and beginning to dice it on a cutting board, “now go to your room before your father’s here, I’ll bring you dinner once it’s made. If he asks, it’s pneumonia from riding that ridiculous bike of yours out there for too long.”

“My bike is not ridiculous!” I object.

“Your room, Teresa,” she replies, not even looking up, “love you, dear.”

“Love you too, Mama,” I reply, walking back into my room and shutting the door, locking it for extra protection.

I scroll on my phone, browsing various websites for a few minutes, before I hear dad and my brothers lumber in. I hear Mama hiss for them to keep it down because I’m ‘sleeping’. They, in order, all reply, ‘sorry, Mama,” and then stomp slightly less furiously over to the living room, where they turn on some sports network.

I roll my eyes and put my headphones on, listening to some saccharine mid-2000’s anthem. The noise eventually dies down, and a door closes, which I assume means they’ve finally gone down into our restaurant’s dining room to eat. A few hours into the playlist, sick and tired of it but unsure what else to do stuck in my room, I hear Mama’s characteristic knock on the door. I open the door to see her with a bowl of soup and a take-out box full of ravioli.

“Don’t overdo it, sweetheart,” she says, “I would’ve given you some cooked sausage but someone ate all of ‘em.”

“That’s my bad, Mama,” I reply, “thank you for the dinner.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” she says, smiling at me, “I can’t wait to take you shopping for the dresses for next month’s!”

“Love you, Mama!”  I say as I close the door.

The soup is still a bit lukewarm, not like temperature matters too much with Mama’s cooking. She always does a good job, that’s why she took over the restaurant, after all. Never get sick of her cooking. But yeah, the ravioli is good too, filled with spinach and ricotta and pork, all that good stuff. I find myself mostly full after a few bites, then set the rest on the bedside. I’ll toss it in the morning.

As I turn my light out, I hear a knock on the door. “It’s me,” Rob calls.

I unlock the door again and give him a hug as soon as I see him. He smiles down at me as he pats my back.

“Love you Teresa, just makin’ sure you’re okay, I know you hate to miss out on food and family,” he says.

“Love you too, Rob,” I reply, “I’m doin’ okay, the food part’s covered and I’ve had enough of Mama’s fretting that I’ve got the family part covered too.”

He chuckles at that, then backs out of the doorway, waving to me, “I’ve got work in the morning so I’m headed out. See you later?”

“See you later! I’ll text you in the morning!” I whisper before I lock the door.

I snuggle up in bed, noticing that fur does make me need less covers. I throw one of the comforters off and snuggle deeper into bed. I at first feel a little restless, having slept on my stomach but now finding that, uh, harder, and so electing to sleep on my side instead. Sleep comes quickly after that, my mind dissipating into dreams seamlessly.

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