Page 10 of Beyond Oblivion

She shoved him back, and we all waved goodbye to Jim.

Olive was her usual talkative self on the way to the restaurant, filling us in on all the high school drama we’d apparently missed that week. She vented about her entrepreneur project and launched into a detailed rant about Lily Grayson’s prom committee coup, leaving no opinion unsaid.

She wasn’t finished by the time we parked, or when we were seated. Trenton listened to her intently, asking questions at the right time. As Olive spoke, Trenton smiled at her like she was the most fascinating person he’d ever met, saying the most profound things he’d ever heard. Olive was brilliant, funny, and exceptionally beautiful. I’d never been so invested in watching someone grow into a young adult, to see how far her big personality, smarts, and charm would take her. Olive also had a unique relationship with Taylor and Falyn. Every time they came into town, they gravitated toward her, wanting to know every detail they’d missed since their last visit. It was wild seeing Falyn and Olive together; they could pass for mother and daughter, and sometimes I’d catch Olive making the same faces or doing the same mannerisms as Falyn. Now that it was Olive’s final year of high school, Falyn seemed to be even more invested, and they visited more often for some of Olive’s senior events.

“Ew, you wanna hit the pinball machine?” Trenton asked, wiping his face with a napkin.

I watched Olive, wondering if that would be the time she’d break Trenton’s heart and tell him to stop calling her that. Olive’s last name was Olivier, her initials were what spawned the nickname Trenton had given her, but she was a young lady now. I told Trenton years before that one day she would hate it.

I was wrong. Olive only smiled. “Sure, if you want to suffer the humiliation of defeat.”

“We’ll see,” Trenton said, chasing her out of the booth.

Olive giggled as they raced to the pinball machine, stopping a server on the way over to trade dollars for change. He plunked several quarters in and stepped aside for Olive to start what would be no less than a twenty-minute competition.

Trenton’s cell phone vibrated, shimmying just a few inches from the table’s edge. I picked it up to move it, noticing Madison’s name on the notification. I set it down on its face and rested my chin in my hands, watching my husband throw his head back and cackle like a kid at something Olive had said.

His phone buzzed again.Don’t do it, Cami.

I did it anyway. The phone lit up as I turned it over, and a string of texts populated the screen when I touched her name. She’d been texting Trenton all day, asking questions, talking about nothing, complaining about how much there was to do in the new apartment, and persuading him to come help. Toward the end of his workday, she texted more, clearly excited for him to come.

The latest message made me pause.

Hey! Thank you so, so much for helping today.

Sorry if I sort of took advantage of you being there,

but tbh I also didn’t really want you to leave. It was

so good to talk to you about everything. And I’m

sorry for being weird. If you have a free minute this

weekend, can you stop by? I finally feel like I have

someone to talk about things with. Someone who

understands. :)

I glanced up at Trenton, who was cheering on Olive. They were both all smiles, having the time of their lives. It wouldn’t be out of character for Trenton to befriend a young girl. He was everyone’s favorite uncle. When we met, his best friend was a five-year-old. And Madison had a point. They’d both lost Mackenzie in a traumatic way, and that was something they’d always share. Trenton had mentioned Mackenzie’s parents had blamed him for her death, so maybe that’s why it had taken so long for Madison to reach out.

I was going to assume the best. I had no reason not to.

Trenton and Olive returned to the table, laughing and out of breath. We ordered pie, of course, and then took her home. Once Trenton returned from walking her to the door and chatting with Shane and Liza, he hopped behind the steering wheel of his truck and leaned over the console, planting a big kiss on my mouth.

“You taste like pie,” I said with a smile.

“You taste like my wife.” Every time he said the word, there was almost a twinkle in his eye. He put the truck in gear and then grabbed my hand as we drove away.

“You need to text Maddie back, by the way. She texted you while you and Olive were playing.”

“Damn, again? She’s a sweet girl, but she’s wearing me out. She wanted to hear everything I remembered about the accident. And I mean I get it, but it’s mentally exhausting, ya know?”

I nodded.

“I just didn’t expect to ever have to deep dive into that subject again. But I feel bad for her. I want her to be okay. I’m just glad she doesn’t hate me, I guess.”

“She shouldn’t hate you. It wasn’t your fault.”

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