Page 59 of Mine Again
There’s a loud crack, and I watch, stunned, as a leg snaps off clean. Andrea drops like a stone, landing on the floor with a graceless thud.
I clamp a hand over my mouth, but a stunned giggle still bursts out.
“Oh my God, are you okay?”
He lies there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling like it personally betrayed him. Then he props himself on one elbow, mock-serious.
“I’d like to formally report an attempt on my life.”
The giggle becomes a laugh. A real one. The kind that bubbles up before you can stop it.
He grins, rolling to the side and pushing himself up to stand.
“Well, that was one way to break the ice.”
A flustered waitress rushes over, apologizing before she even reaches us.
“I’m so sorry. This has never happened before. We even had a carpenter in this morning to check every chair and table after a few complaints about wobbly ones yesterday. Again, I’m so sorry. I’ll bring over a new chair right away.”
The words rush out of her in a single breath, and before either of us can respond, she’s already whisked the broken chair away and disappeared.
Andrea dusts himself off, pats the surviving chairs like they’reuntrustworthy, and eases down onto one with exaggerated care.
“I swear I’ve never broken anything on a first date.”
“Well, you’ll be hard to forget now,” I say, struggling not to laugh again. “You really know how to make an impression.”
He grins. “Go big or go home, right?”
The waitress appears beside our table with a replacement, then pulls a tablet from her apron.
“What can I get you?” she asks, still frazzled, offering a tight smile.
“I’ll have an americano, no sugar,” Andrea says.
“Cappuccino, please,” I add. “Whole milk.”
She taps the orders into the iPad, nods, and disappears toward the counter.
“Not oat milk?” Andrea teases.
“God, no. I can’t do the fake milks. They taste like they’ve given up on life.”
He laughs. “Not even soy?”
I shudder. “It coats your tongue like betrayal. Absolutely not.”
“Noted. No soy milk. Ever,” he chuckles. “Anything else I should know to avoid?”
We fall into an easy conversation, the initial awkwardness melting away like morning fog. Andrea is surprisingly good company. Easygoing. Attentive.
Just when I’m about to relax completely, my phone buzzes.
Once.
Then again.
And again.
