Page 18 of Falling for the Forward

I think both of us are relieved when she puts the grater down. She moves on to clipping my toenails and digging into my nail beds. But pain, I can handle.

When she clips out a big piece of toenail from the side of one of my big toes, she holds the nail up in front of me in the clippers, accusing me of something I don’t understand. I just shrug.

“We need to come here more often,” Olivia says. “Your feet need a lot of work.”

I’d rather chomp on rusty scraps of metal, but instead, I smile like it’s the best idea I’ve ever heard.

The technician massages my feet, her hands working the kind of magic I’m used to on the rest of my body from our team’s athletic trainer. This part’s definitely not so bad.

Olivia’s getting her toenails painted bright pink as my technician massages lotion into my feet. I’m so damn happy when I get to put my shoes back on and pay the bill.

“What did you think?” Olivia asks me as we’re walking back to the car.

“Not bad at all. Minus the grater and the jackhammer massage chair, I mean.”

“You should have asked her to turn the chair off.”

“Yeah.”

I check my phone, hoping Leo sent me the text I’ve been expecting. It’s there, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Olivia’s surprise gift is taken care of.

“What do you want to do next?” I ask her once we’re back in the car.

She shrugs. “That was fun. We can just go back home.”

“No way. How about some shopping? And some Starbucks?”

Rachel told me Olivia wanted a Starbucks gift card for her last birthday, so I assume she still likes it. Based on the way she lights up when I mention it, I’m right.

When we get to Starbucks, I get a black coffee and Olivia orders a pink drink.

“This was my mom’s favorite here,” she says as we sit down at a small table.

Her gaze turns wistful and falls to the cup.

“Rach always liked strawberry shakes when we were kids,” I say. “With lots of whipped cream. Our mom used to get mad at us because we’d spray whipped cream right into each other’s mouths.”

“Really?” Olivia smiles broadly, drinking up the new information about her mom.

“Believe it or not, your mom was usually the mastermind when we’d get in trouble. It was her idea to make our mom’s bedroom into a trampoline park for the neighbor kids the first summer our mom let us stay home alone while she was at work. We charged two dollars per kid to come jump on Mom’s bed and we sold snacks from our kitchen.”

“Did you get in trouble?”

I smile at the memory. “Big time. One of the other kid’s parents told our mom and she came home one day when we had about ten kids jumping on her bed. She took us to work with her at the library every day for the rest of the summer and all we could do was sit at a desk and read.”

“I don’t have any memories of Grandma from before she died, but Mom used to talk about her.”

“Rachel was a lot like her.” I take a sip of my coffee, remembering my sister’s contagious laugh. “I miss them both.”

“Me too.”

“You remind me of your mom.”

Olivia’s eyes brighten. “I do? How?”

“The way you like to take care of people, like your sisters.”

Her expression turns annoyed. “They don’t listen to me.”

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