ANNIE’S VIEW POINT.
Giovanna was a better cook than I expected. She chopped vegetables at chef speed and accuracy, being completely focused with her quantities. She measured everything, down to water. I was surprised she was this conservative when making meals. She seemed like a carefree person that went where the wind took her, but she was different now. Like a whole new person. I appreciated that she was serious with making food for my brother, but I had to know why she was acting like her life depended on its perfection.
“Hey, Gia?” I called, seeing her look over her shoulder while stirring ingredients for the jambalaya. She smiled warmly, leaving the other pot of potatoes to boil and placing a lid over it. She turned and wiped her hands on the towel she kept in the pocket of the apron she insisted on wearing even though this was a casual meal. She had also insisted on making a three course meal from the start and despite the time limit we had, and the assumed impossibility to do s
