#Chapter 173 – Two Brothers
“Drink up, you sissy!” Giana laughs, sipping at the straw of her way-too-strong bloody mary.
I just cough, looking askance at mine. “G, this is like 90% vodka, 5% tomato juice, and the rest is horseradish. Honestly, it’s basically clear.”
“I am freshly a widow, Iris,” Giana says, even as she laughs. “You are not allowed to critique my bartending skills – it is rude, this is part of my grieving process.”
And I laugh with her then, a little baffled and impressed by the way that she’s covering her clear grief with a thick layer of bravado and humor. But I can see it there – in the way her jokes are a bit too brash, the way she pastes her smile determinedly on.
So I roll my eyes, taking another sip of the drink and coughing when it fails to go down smoothly. Giana grins and pats me on the back, turning back towards the little computer tablet where we’re looking up tickets to Disney and flights for this afternoon.
We chatter away, making her plans, and I don’t explain what happen

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