Her curious, genuine tone of voice kept Steve's admittedly sensitive hackles from rising at the question and commentary she made. Instead, he nodded, remembering that she didn't know anything about him, and was trying to figure things out. This was a good way for him to explain things to her, a little at a time.

"Yeah, my mom came here from Ireland when she was 17. On her own, because they could barely afford the one ticket, let alone get the whole family over here. Bucky's father came over from Italy, and his ma's second generation Italian. When I get angry or upset, I start soundin' more Brooklyn, but when Bucky gets mad - hoo boy, he starts soundin' like he's talkin' a whole different language. Half the time he is, too. If he says something in Italian, don' ask what it means, 'cause it's usually not polite," he laughed.

He shrugged. "It's a pretty big mixing pot, around here. I don't think it's so much 'Irish here, Italians there, Chinese over yonder', it's more... 'Catholics here, Protestants there' - waaaay over there, because we do not like the Protestants, an' they don't like us." Steve bit his lip and glanced at Marie with a grimace. "...Please tell me you're not Protestant. Because that's...it's the Irish Protestants and Catholics who don't like each other, that's all. Stupid old world grudges."

Christ, could he not say anything to her without sticking his foot in his mouth?