Page 8 of Tell Me Again

I say nothing, but she doesn’t need me to, I know. And we just sit there for a few more minutes until my heartbeat stops thundering in my ears.

She pulls back and gives me another of her kind smiles, and there’s something else in her eyes too. Like she just knows. I mean, not that. She certainly doesn’t know all of it. She can’t. But she probably does know and can see how much this is hurting me. And somehow, she understands.

“Maybe you have a sort of second chance here then?” she suggests. “We are in town for two weeks, and Mom only has plans for almost every day. Maybe you can see if he wants to hang out. And you can, um... set the record straight. Or whatever you need to tell him.”

Somehow, I doubt he’d be willing, especially given how keen he was to get away from me at the diner just now. But I nod, and she gives me another kiss on the cheek before she pulls her car back out onto the road.

Chapter Five

Coop

“Coop! What the hell? That’s the third time today!”

“I know. I’m sorry, Mel.”

I don’t even have the energy to curse, and she doesn’t have the energy to stop my apology. She hurries past me in a huff as I grab a tray and kneel down to start picking up pieces of the plates I’d just dropped. So much for my fucking luck.

I never drop plates. Except apparently today.

I clean up the mess, wash my hands, and get back out into the dining room to apologize to my remaining customers for the wait. I’ve got three tables left, and then I can finish closing up and head home.

And I’m seriously ready to get the hell out of here because today fucking sucked.

I mean, the tips were okay, but not as much as I’d usually get after a long double on a Saturday, and now I’m going to have to sneak an extra twenty back to Mel when she’s not looking. Cover those plates I broke.

And I’m dead tired. It’s after ten, and I’ve been here all day long. My feet hurt, my shoulders hurt, and my back... yeah, that hurts too.

But most of all, I haven’t been able to shake it off—that feeling I’d had after seeing Josh, standing so close to him, fucking nearly touching him. God, it’s like some weird mix of the worst nausea ever and this yearning for something I know I can’t have.

At least I managed to keep my shit together, unlike last night, but I’ve still been shaky and forgetful for most of my second shift, which hasn’t helped my tips much. I can’t blame my customers, though, especially when I’ve fucking walked right by them four times before remembering that I was supposed to refill their drinks.

“Coop, come on in here,” Mel calls from her office as I step back into the kitchen a bit later, after my last table has left and I’ve locked up the front door.

She’s sitting at her desk, hunched over a bit, writing something in this ancient ledger thing she’s got where she does all her bookkeeping. Her accountants love her, I’m sure. She’s got a puff of flour on her shirt, and her eyes look about as exhausted as I feel.

“Mel, I’m—”

“If you tell me you’re sorry one more time, you’re fuckin’ fired. Sit.”

I do as she says, pulling a chair up to her desk. She sets her pen down, closes her ledger, and looks up at me, her expression serious. Fuck. What did I do now?

“If this is about the rent, I probably have enough after tonight—”

“Coop, shut up and let me talk.”

And again, I do as she says.

She sighs and then sits back in her chair a bit. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you saved my ass today. You know how hard it is to find good, reliable employees, and even Chuck, who’s worked here for years... He fucking lives two miles out, and I offered for him to borrow my car last night since he knew his was giving him trouble. And then I offered to bring him in this morning, and still—” She shakes her head. “What I’m trying to say is thank you, Coop. I really appreciate you being here when I needed you. I wish I could give you tomorrow off, because I know today was a fuckin’ beast. But I need you. Jan’s out. Michelle might be here, but Chuck certainly won’t.”

“I’ll be here, Mel. Don’t have anything better to do,” I tease, trying for a smile. But my energy is low, and I’m feeling oddly emotional too.

Mel doesn’t just give out praise like that. Ever.

I mean, I know I work hard. I have to. But I’ve also never really felt proud of what I do. It’s just a job. A job that sort of pays my bills. It’s not what I used to see myself doing. Not what I’d planned. It’s more like what I’d had to do to survive.

I close my eyes and drop my chin to my chest. I’m about to tell Mel—for about the millionth time—how thankful I am that she never gave up on me, that she gave me a chance, put me to work so I could earn my keep, helped me put a roof over my head when I really had nothing. But she starts talking again before I have the chance. And this time, her voice has softened even more—a tone I’ve heard maybe less than a handful of times from her in all the nine years I’ve known her.

“I know you don’t think so, but your mama would’ve been proud of you, kiddo.”

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