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She's trying to ignore how woozy she feels. Chugs water like her body is a desert and pops another couple of painkillers. Thankfully it's not like this too often, only every few months does it knock her around for a day or two. This time though she wants to crawl inside the oven. She settles for standing against it, chasing the heat for her lower back with a grimace.
"You good, Chef?" He asks, voice laced with concern.
"Yes Chef, all good."
"You cut?" She shakes her head. "Got a burn?"
"Nope," she pops the P, "I'm good, really." She surveys the chaos ahead, Carmy is on family, so that's one less thing to think about. She's not hungry anyway. Just thirsty again, chugs more water and gets to work on the potatoes. He watches her like a hawk as she grips the countertop for a couple of seconds and then let's go again. They go on, always within arms reach, like a gravitational pull, but she's not paying any mind to what he's working on. Head down, focuses on her own tasks and keeps everyone else on time.
"Family's up." His voice is low, right in her ear - a sign he's already called it a couple times. Everyone else is washing up and milling through to grab a seat at the table.
"Right. Thanks Chef, I'm not really hungry."
"C'mon, I made it for you." He nudges her elbow.
"Eh cousin, fuckin' vegetables? What the fuck man?" Richie calls from the other room. She follows Carmy and drops into a chair next to Ebra.
"They're good for you cuz, eat 'em all and you'll be big and strong." Carmy claps him on the back, raising a loud laugh from Tina. He passes her a plate. Spinach and ricotta gnocchi. Very heavy on the spinach. "You need to keep your iron up." He mutters quietly, a ghost of a smile passing between them.