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“Must have been great for your iron intake.”
I bark out a laugh. “I took pills and had to eat spinach at nearly every meal.”
Gia wrinkles her nose in disgust. “There’s no way I’d be able to eat enough spinach to compensate.”
I shrug and take a bite of the chicken. It’s absolutely heavenly; perfectly done, perfectly seasoned, and so juicy I immediately have to reach for my napkin.
“You’d be surprised. Your body changes so much when you’re pregnant, it kind of seems like the least of your worries. Plus vomiting every time I came near a butcher shop wasn’t exactly pleasant.”
“I’m sorry.”
I freeze, some of the mashed potatoes halfway up to my mouth. Gia’s looking at me with a completely solemn face, which I know from our short time together isn’t an expression Gia adopts often. “For what?”
“I bet you needed a sister through that.”
I set the fork down. Her apology seems genuine, but I notice that she doesn’t say anything about the elephant in the room.
I also needed my mother.
“I was fine,” I say softly.
Gia’s eyes shine with something that makes my heart squeeze, and I want to take back my words.
But I can’t.
So, I opt for something else.
“The chicken is good. Thank you,” I give her a small smile.
She hesitates for just a minute. Then, her warmth slowly seeps back into her smile. “Glad to see you weren’t put off meat for life.”
“That would be awfully hard. How would I survive any holiday? Or show my face again around Nonna?”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t get me started. My Nonna is constantly telling me how terrible I am in the kitchen. But honestly,” she throws her hands up in frustration, “how on earth am I supposed to learn to cook anything when the instructions are so bad!”
“Oh, tell me about it. The amount of times I’ve asked ‘how much’ of any ingredient and been told…”
“Enough!” Gia finishes my sentence and laughs.
I smile. “Sounds like our Nonnas get together on the weekends to find ways to torture us.”
“I bet they would. Mine’s sitting in the house in Italy somewhere, dripping in Versace and surrounded by very small dogs. Yours?”
I smile again. “Good try, Gia.”
Her eyes sparkle and she sits back. “I like you, Caterina.”
“You’ve mentioned that.”
“It’s worth saying again.”
“Why?”
She sighs. She glances back to where Elio is sitting, fully engrossed in something on a computer, noise-cancelling headphones on. She looks back at me. “Elio needs you.”
I snort. “I very much doubt that.”
“He does. He is… I worry about him.”
