says. “She always is when she’s got a new book idea. But I have just the thing to calm her down.” She reaches under the chair and reveals a Saran-wrapped tray of freshly made cannolis.
“With the vanilla filling?” Emily gasps.
Alda inclines her head. “Of course,” she says. “What do you take me for, a monster? Hazel, would you like one?”
I gladly take one and we settle in for Emily’s latest book idea. The more she talks, the clearer it becomes where she got the inspiration for it. Basically, there’s this lady in a make-believe land who teaches elves how to speak Fairy, and then one day this troll comes and kidnaps her to keep her safe. At first the lady and the troll hate each other, but soon they fall in love. Happily ever after. The end.
Just imagine if life was that simple. Though I do quite like the idea of Carlo being a troll.
“So, what do you think?” Emily is looking mostly at me. She’s asking if I’ve got any copyright issues. “Is it too silly? It’s my first fantasy idea, so …” She stuffs a whole cannoli in her mouth, nervously munching. “I know it might not be—ah—ah—”
“Emily? Emily, are you okay?” I ask. She’s not saying anything, not making any noise at all. I can see blood rushing to her face. Her neck is red; her veins are bulging.
She’s choking.
Alda leaps to her feet in the worst case of panic I’ve ever seen. “Guards!” she screams, running around the attic, trying to be in five places at once. “Guards!” She spins on me. “I don’t know what to do. Oh, God, Hazel, I don’t know what to do!”
“Stay calm,” I tell her. I move quickly to Emily. “I’m going to put my arms around you and thrust, okay? There may be some slight pain. Don’t panic. Everything is going to be okay, I promise.”
Five abdominal thrusts. The lessons return to me as though I took them yesterday.
I race around behind her, wrap my arms around the back of the wheelchair and Emily’s midsection, and apply the squeezes, just like I was taught way back when. Nothing. Not a peep. She’s still choking, shaking in my arms. That cannoli is really lodged deep. When five thrusts don’t work, I bend her over slightly and give her five swift slaps on the back.
“This is going to be a bit gross,” I tell her, trying for a smile, and doing my utmost to remain the picture of calm, like a Hindu cow.
I reach into her mouth and grab the chewed-up cannoli, scooping it out and dropping it on the floor. Then I walk back around her and repeat the whole process. Thirty seconds and one sticky hand later, Emily is sitting up in the chair, panting.
“Get her some water,” I tell Alda.
“Yes, yes, of course.”
“And call Carlo. I’m sure he’ll want to know about this.”
“Yes, good—good thinking. Lord. Yes.”
Now that it’s over, I can finally let out a breath. “You scared the hell out of me there,” I tell Emily.
She looks up at me red-faced, still wheezing slightly. “So, do you like the story idea?” she asks.
I shake my head in disbelief. “Yes, Emily De Maggio, I like the damn story idea.”
Carlo comes rushing into the attic about half an hour later. The joy in his face almost breaks my heart when he sees Emily sitting there, just like normal, typing away at her laptop. I watch him from my chair as he rushes across the attic and kneels next to his sister. He throws me a little look: thank you so much. It seems Carlo the Asshat is taking the afternoon off.
“Emily, are you okay?” he says. “Do you need to go to the hospital? What happened?”
“Mom told you what happened,” Emily huffs, shrugging his hand away. “The culprit’s a cannoli, and the heroine is Hazel. I’m thinking of writing a story about it. Heroic Hazel and the Cannoli that Almost Killed Me. What do you think? Is the title too wordy?”
“It sounds great,” Carlo says absentmindedly.
He looks at me again. His blue-green eyes still look slightly panicked. I get the sense that he wants to hold me, but that’d be, like, violating some man-rule he’s made for himself these past few days. So, he just keeps staring. He has a small white mark under his left eye I’ve never noticed before, but it’s visible in the lava-lamp light. A childhood scar, maybe? It’s faded into his bronze skin.