Don't Forget Me

Chapter 19

"Mocha ice blend with two shots and extra whip," I call out into the coffee shop, sliding a perfectly made drink onto the pickup counter. A five-hour shift and zero mistakes. Progress. Mostly thanks to Paula not scheduling me with Mike anymore.

"You're really getting it down again, Roseanne," Paula says with a satisfied look.

"Thanks for being so patient with me," I reply, feeling like I'm finally starting to settle in now that I'm not spending all my time trying to remember the past.

"Oh please, you're killing it." She looks at the analog clock on the decorative brick wall behind us. Noon. "Go on. Get out of here. I'll see you tomorrow," she says.

"Sweet. I convinced my dad to rent a boat today to take my mom and me out on the reservoir," I reply, with a stupid smile plastered onto my face. We haven't actually done anything together all three of us since the accident, which feels so weird. So I think it's the perfect time for our annual summer boat outing. I think it's exactly what we need.

"Well, have a good time! You've got a great day for it," she replies.

I pull my phone out of my pocket to let them know I'm going to head to the marina, but before I can, I find a voice mail from an unknown number and a different kind of text from my dad.

Hey kiddo, not going to be able to get out on the water today. Swamped at the garage and Uncle Chuck called out sick. Maybe see you tonight if I'm not home too late.

Damn.

I peel off my apron and then head out the back door toward my Volvo.

I press play on that voice mail and hold it up to my ear. I'm assuming it's a telemarketer since who really leaves voicemails anymore, so I'm not expecting it to improve my mood. But my mouth drops open slightly as the guy on the other end talks and my disappointment is temporarily forgotten.

I can't actually believe it.

The second he's finished, I quickly dial Oliver's number, strapping my seat belt around me at the same time. With each ring, my smile grows a little wider.

Pick up. Pick up.

"Hello?" he says finally.

"Oliver... we won! We freaking won a cow!" I scream into the phone, and he laughs.

"You're kidding me. That's amazing! Where are you?" he asks, incredulous.

"I'm on my way to the farm to like... I don't know, tell Lisa it's hers, I guess?"

I can figure out the logistics of picking up and re-delivering a cow later.

"You have to call me after and tell me what she says."

"I will," I reply as I turn the key over, switching my phone to the other ear.

"Maybe we could do it again sometime," he says.

"Win another cow? I'm not sure we should press our luck," I joke.

"I was thinking more like lunch. I work the next two days, but maybe Thursday?" he asks.

"I don't think I can," I reply.

"Oh... okay. Yeah, that's cool. I—"

I cut him off before he spirals. "I have to work the lunch shift on Thursday. How about Friday?"

"Friday." I can almost hear his smile widening through the phone and it brings nerves to my stomach. "Okay. I'll text you."

"Bye, Oliver," I say before hanging up and trying not to think too much about what a second date might entail. Instead, I focus on what my mom said about giving him a chance, about how it might take time like it did with my parents.