“Ha! Quite right,” Daniella slapped Pitch’s forearm. “I like you, Sweetie. Hope you haven’t had dinner yet? I’m making stew beef and rice and I got plenty. Candy girl, come get the boy some sweet tea. Make yourself to home, Vic baby,” she called over her shoulder as she turned to leave the room. Then Daniella Strong changed courses again and wagged a finger at her daughter.
“Never mind about the tea, hon. I’ll bring it myself. You keep Vic company.”
Pitch’s laughter was softer but just as abundant when he and Candace were alone in the livingroom again. “Your mother doesn’t have a problem using my first name.”
Candace still looked profoundly mortified. “She’s from the south. Once she meets somebody they’re no longer a stranger. Damn,” she closed her eyes and winced. “I didn’t mean to say that I-I ramble when I’m nervous,” she bristled then. She didn’t mean to say that either.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asked her quietly.
“You’re my boss,” she replied just as quietly.
Sighing then, a look of regret filtered his black gaze. “I shouldn’t have come-”
“Oh no, please,” she urged when he turned as if to leave. “Don’t go I-I’d really like you to stay.” Again, she waved toward the beige sofa.
Pitch hesitated a beat and then resumed his spot there. “Do you think we could forget I’m a Tesano when we’re away from Tesano?”
Candace nodded, looking relieved. “That sounds good.” She sat on the beige armchair next to the sofa. “Could I ask you something?”
“Please,” he lifted a shoulder in an encouraging shrug.
“Why don’t you like to be called Pitch?”
He blinked. Lips parting, he looked absolutely thrown by the question.
Candace winced yet again. “I’ve offended you,” she shuddered.
“No um...” he shook his head and looked at her strangely. “How do you know that? Nobody knows that.”
Her lips turned down as she considered her response. “In the hall when we met last week at Tesano...you said everyone called you Pitch. You didn’t seem happy about it.”
Pitch gave into another grin. “Guess it’s getting harder for me to fake it.”
“Fake it? For who?”
“Friends...family mostly.”
She seemed concerned. “Did they give you the name?”
“My brother Humphrey did the honors,” Pitch studied the lines on his palms. “It was a long time before I understood why-an even longer time before I had a problem with it.”
“What happened?
He kept his eyes on his hands. “I learned what ‘pitch’ meant. By then, it was too late to stop folks from using it, so...” he breathed out a quick laugh. “My dad never used it. He always calls me Vic. Guess he was just waiting on me to wise up. I never wanted to make a big deal of it. My brother Gabriel doesn’t seem to mind his nickname so...”
“You guys call him Gabe?” Candace guessed.
“Grekka. Grek for short. You can laugh now.”
Candace did. “Where’d that come from?”
“My little brothers Roman and Vale. Neither of them could say Gabriel-it sounded all garbled up and closer to Grekka,” Pitch smiled on the memories and shrugged. “Humphrey started using it too. Grek doesn’t seem to mind. Unlike me.”
“I’m sorry Vic.”
“It’s alright,” he gave a slow smile. “I never told that to anyone before.”
“It goes no farther,” she swore.
“I know,” he reclined on the sofa he all but eclipsed with his frame. “I used to think Humphrey giving me that nickname meant he accepted me, you know?” Since he’s the oldest...it meant something to have his approval.”
“And now?” Candace probed.
“Now I think I hate him,” he exhaled a heavy breath then. “I’m sorry Candy, I-”
“Never apologize for being honest,” she said.
He favored her with a mildly exasperated look. “I guess you’ve got a better relationship with your brother’s and sisters, huh?”
“I’m an only child.”
“Jeez! Lucky.”
“Not really,” her smile was sad. “My dad died when I was two. Mama never remarried.”
He nodded slowly, regret motivating his expression. “I’m sorry Candace.”
She responded with another question. “Did your brother give you that nickname because of your skin tone?”
