Grace gently taps his cheek. “Shut up, you.”
My eyebrows inch toward my hairline. “Tell me more.”
“Where shall I begin?” my brother asks dramatically. “First, he said everything in a way that reminded me of a bulleted grocery store list.” Daniel deepens his voice and dons a terrible (and frankly, disrespectful) Italian accent in a Giovanni impersonation attempt. “Taysah drank-ah a hazelnut-ah espresso. Taysah passed-ah out-ah. I gave-ah Taysah-ah the EpiPen. Taysah is-ah in the hospital-ah. Taysah is-ah asleep-ah. Taysah?—”
“Offensive accent aside, I get it. What else?”
“Well, then he proceeded to interrogate me in an accusatory way, like it wasmewho gave you the hazelnut espresso and not his own mother.”
“His family is really nice. She made an honest mistake. I hope you didn’t say anything rude,” I cut in, surprising myself with how defensive I already feel over the Cattaneos.
“There’s a zero percent likelihood his family is ‘very nice’ given what I’ve experienced, Tessie. He asked so many questions, in such a harsh tone. Threatening me, like, ‘the longer you take, the longer she’ll be in this place,’” Daniel whines.
Pacifying the big old baby, Grace kisses him on his head.
I can’t believe Giovanni was so wrapped up in my recovery. “I think you’re exaggerating. There’s no way he was that concerned.”
“If anything, he’s underplaying it, Tess,” Grace adds. “Giovanni seemed really worried about you.”
“Really worried? More like ‘ready to declare war,’” Daniel interjects. Leaning toward the phone, he whispers, “Honestly, Tessie? If it wasn’t his own mother that poisoned you with the hazelnut, he might’ve killed her. And I’m being serious.”
I laugh nervously. “I’m slightly scared to ask, but what did you tell him about me?”
“Well,” Grace starts, “we had to give him your medical history for the staff. We answered what we could, and Danny called Mom to fill in some of the blanks. Nothing big. Just, like, recent travel, repeat medications, pregnancies, surgeries—like how you had your gallbladder removed a few years ago. And, uh, other stuff…”
“Stuff? What stuff?”
They go completely silent.
My voice lowers in a menacing sort of way as a myriad of possibilities race through my mind. “What did you guys tell him?”
“It was Gracie that answered it!” my brother shouts.
“Hey, that’s not fair. You almost vomited and left the room based on the question alone!”
They dissolve into bickering, and I watch Grace flip him off before coming back into frame.
“So,” she mumbles, “erm, they asked about your sexual history.”
“TheyWHAT?”
“Yeah, I don’t know why it’s relevant, but, uh… I know you and I recently chatted about this, and?—”
“I cannot be here,” Daniel says, making a gagging noise before a door shuts.
“Anyway, I know you told me you hadn’t had sex in like, over a year, because you and your ex just stopped doing it a while ago. So, I’m afraid that Giovanni…knowsthat now,” she squeaks.
My face heats and, relatedly, I wish time travel was a thing so I could go back and die from the hazelnut. It’d be preferable to him knowing about the frequency at which I have sexual intercourse.
“Couldn’t you have skipped that one or something?!”
“I don’t know, Tess! He was asking so many rapid fire questions, and it seemed serious, and I didn’t want to be the one that indirectly killed you by withholding critical information!” she exclaims.
“Christ, G! Aren’t you a doctor?!”
Grace aggressively shakes her head. “I’m a vet! It’s not the same.”
“We evolved from monkeys!!”
