Chapter 18 #2
“Speak for yourself, Gracie. I, for one, am not worried,” Daniel cuts in. “If anything, I’m more concerned about that man’s attitude. Concerned… and slightly scared.”
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 was me who 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.”
“They WHAT?”
“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… knows that 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!!”
A door bangs against a wall, and Daniel’s voice cuts in. “Hey! Don’t yell at my wife like that—watch your tone.” He turns towards her, saying gently, “Let’s go, Gracie girl. Tessie’s being mean to us.”
My eyes almost roll out of my skull.
Grace strokes his hair. “We’re really glad you’re okay, Tessa. Stay safe over there!”
Giovanni reappears in the room, thick eyebrows furrowed, probably at my panicked expression.
“Gotta go, hate both of you, bye,” I whisper-scream, ending the call.
At this point, we might as well call this whole arrangement off. I won’t be able to look at Giovanni again, let alone work closely with him on my line. Fuck my life.
Gathering my bearings, I pull one of the purple flowers out of the vase on my bedside table and breathe it in, hoping it provides me with the zen I need. “Where did all these flowers come from? Were these from the previous patient’s room?”
“No. If you can believe it, similar to America, hospital rooms here are cleaned in between patients,” he replies dryly.
“So, then it’s… a welcome thing for foreign patients?” I weakly guess.
“No. They’re from relatives.” He sits down in the chair next to my bed.
“…my relatives?” I talk to exactly two blood relatives, if I don’t count my deadbeat dad (and I never do). I know Daniel and my mother love me, but convert-the-US-dollar-to-Euros-to-purchase-flowers seems a little much.
“My relatives.” He starts pointing to the various bouquets in the room.
“These,” he says, gesturing to dusty pink dahlias, “are from Mamma and Papa.” He points to a bunch of vibrant yellow roses.
“And those are from my cousins.” Motioning loosely to the remaining flowers, he casually adds, “The rest are from neighbors or friends.”
My stomach drops. “Exactly how long have I been here?”
“Overnight. We came in after dinner, and it’s morning now.”
We. Giovanni’s been here the whole time.
He runs a hand through his messy curls and heaves a sigh.
Dark circles shadow his eyes, making him look utterly exhausted.
A soothing heat unfurls in me at the thought of him by my side in the hospital.
I allow myself to linger in that knowledge for only a few moments before my mind wanders back to the flowers.
I’m still trying to figure out how all of these strangers had time in between dinner and breakfast to send them.
Curiosity gets the best of me, and I can’t help but ask, “How do all of these people know I had an allergic reaction?”
He shrugs. “Mamma, of course. She’s beside herself. Thinks you’ll hold a grudge forever.”
Pressure builds in my chest as I think about his poor mother. “Oh my God. I hope you reassured her that I’m totally fine. I’ve forgiven worse people for way more, honestly.”
“You’ve forgiven people for way more than near involuntary manslaughter?”
I nod. “One time—”
“Why don’t you rest? The doctor will be in shortly.”
As if on cue, a doctor walks into my room. He’s about our age, on the shorter side with light blond hair and dark brown eyes. Not my type, but definitely attractive. As I direct my attention to him, a human wall steps in front of me and blocks my view.
Giovanni turns back to face me and angry-whispers, “You might want to close your mouth. If you drool, they’ll commit you.”
If the allergy doesn’t kill me, this man might do me in.
The doctor peers around Giovanni’s body. “Ciao, Tessa. I’m Doctor Accardi. Nice to meet you.” His Italian accent is thicker than anyone I’ve spoken with since I’ve been here.
“Ciao. Nice to meet you, too.”
“Ciao, Doctor. I’m her boyfriend, Giovanni.”
I doubt the doctor is going to reveal our pretend relationship to the world, but it’s kind of nice that Giovanni is keeping up with the ruse. It makes me feel like I have someone in my corner.
Dr. Accardi sits by the monitors next to the hospital bed and clicks through my information. He pauses for a moment and lifts his phone, reading what I assume is an English translation for what he wants to tell me.
“We’ve been monitoring you overnight due to the severity of your anaphylactic reaction.
We administered intravenous fluids to combat your drop in blood pressure.
” After a few additional clicks on the screen, he gives me a once over.
“We took your vitals and ran some blood tests, which came back clear of any underlying conditions. The reaction appears to be solely from the hazelnut. You’re doing well.
If you’re comfortable with it, we can discharge you today. ”
I breathe out a sigh of relief. “That’s wonderful news. Grazie, Doctor.”
Giovanni loudly butts in. “Are you sure? Seems a little soon.”
The corner of Dr. Accardi’s mouth ticks up at his interjection. “I’m quite sure. As a reminder, you need to make sure you carry two doses of epinephrine at all times. Sometimes a second dose is needed to manage a biphasic reaction.”
“Maybe four just to be safe,” Giovanni interjects, jotting something down in his pocket notebook. At least I have an idea of what he’s writing in his little journal this time.
The doctor chuckles. “Keeping four doses of epinephrine on your person is unnecessary.”
Giovanni launches into a string of fast Italian.
At first, the doctor tries to reply in English for my benefit.
It’s short-lived, however. After a few minutes, he gives up and switches to Italian.
Between the language barrier, Giovanni’s Big Emotions, and the hot doctor, I feel like I’m on an Italian soap drama.
My eyes bounce back and forth between them.
After a couple of minutes, the conversation slows down.
“As I was saying,” the doctor says pointedly at my fussy boyfriend, “Tessa’s going to be fine.” Glancing at my wrist, he asks, “Do you have medical identification jewelry? If you’re going to be on your own, it’s important to—”
“She’ll be with me. She’ll always be with me.”
My jaw drops while I work out whether Giovanni’s words are sweet or toxic.
The doctor continues his discharge spiel, reading from his phone again. “Finally, it would be beneficial if you refrained from heavy exercise and sexual intercourse for at least twelve hours to prevent the body from circulating the allergen due to increased blood flow.”
Giovanni turns over his shoulder, whispering so the doctor can’t hear, “Shouldn’t be a problem for you…” He waggles his eyebrows knowingly.
I see red. “I knew you would bring it up. You know, you can’t just go about acquiring people’s personal medical history. It’s a violation.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Tessa.” Giovanni’s hushed tone and mischievous grin makes my ears itch.
“Scusi,” the doctor cuts in, “but did either of you have any remaining questions?”
“Yes, where is the nearest nut shop, because I’d rather—”
“She’s hilarious, always making jokes,” Giovanni interrupts, stepping in front of my face once again.
The doctor chuckles awkwardly and leaves the room.
Yep. Another shot of hazelnut sounds pretty good right now.