My Lucky Days: A Novel

by S. D. Hendrickson

  “You okay, Katie?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s go.” Taking my hand, we walked slowly over to the fountain and rejoined Peyton’s family. Skylar wrapped me in a big hug. We took another round of pictures with the three of us. She had painted an abstract picture on the top of her square cap, which had made it easier to spot in the crowd from the arena seats.

  “Katie!” I turned around, seeing Lucky’s mama with Colt and Callie. The kids ran over, jumping up and down. They were talking nonstop.

  “Can I wear the hat?” Mia asked, tugging on my arm.

  “Okay. Okay.”

  I unpinned it from my hair, placing the black hat with the orange tassel on her head. She smiled big, and Lucky snapped a picture of us together.

  “Congratulations.” Colt gave me a hug, followed by Callie. Her blonde hair was straight today instead of curly. I knew it took extra effort for her to style it that way—only for special occasions.

  Colleen pulled me in a tight squeeze afterward. She was the nicest person and was incredibly excited about the baby. “So we have a surprise for you. We planned a little party. And invited your roommates and their families too. A party for all three of you.”

  “What?” The tears stung my eyes. “You didn’t have to.”

  “I know. But we wanted to. So let’s get going.”

  Lucky whispered in my ear. “If we hurry, I can beat them to the house. Give us a few minutes alone.”

  I nodded as he pulled me across campus to his truck. We exited the parking lot in a blur. As he drove out to Colt and Callie’s house, we didn’t talk much. He held my hand across the seat, glancing in my direction to the point of distraction.

  “You need to look at the road.” I pointed at the front windshield.

  He grinned in my direction. “I can see just fine.”

  “What if there’s a deer? There could be a deer, and you would need to see it coming.”

  “There’s not going to be a deer this time of day.” He laughed out loud. I think every time Lucky returned to me, he got a little cuter, a little wilder. The star was coming alive and being born with every week he was gone.

  As his truck pulled in the driveway, I gasped. The yard was set up with tables and chairs and centerpieces. And a catering van was parked in the driveway: a literal catering van.

  A stray tear rolled down my cheeks, and I quickly wiped it away. “That’s not a little party.”

  “It’s my mama. Did you think it would actually be a small party?” He laughed. “Come on. We’ve only got ten minutes. Fifteen, tops.”

  My face turned pink before jumping out of the truck. He grabbed my hand and we ran across the yard laughing together. And it was my turn to gaze back at him to the point of distraction as the sunshine touched his beautiful smile and wild hair.

  I loved him. I loved him so much it made me smile and made me hurt. There wasn’t enough space inside my chest to contain the way I felt about Lucky. The love of my life. The father of my child.

  At the beginning of June, I boarded a plane and left for Santa Fe, New Mexico. I was excited to see Lucky. But a familiar feeling resurfaced in my gut—a cold and bitter spark that always came when I moved on.

  As I flew over the square patches of brown and green land, I thought about the time in first grade when I painted a picture of my family.

  I had made everything in my drawing a different color. The tree was solid red. The ground was solid brown. As for the people, I made my father a yellow color with my mother blue. I remember being really proud of myself. Yellow and blue made green, and I had colored myself a dark emerald shade just like the city.

  When I brought the picture home, my mother’s eyebrow arched into little points. They were always so perfectly sculpted. I assumed they still were plucked that way.

  But on that cold afternoon, she’d held my picture and said, “Well, isn’t that colorful,” before promptly tossing my drawing in the trash. I think my mouth fell open and a tear rolled down my cheek. Pictures were supposed to go on the refrigerator. Right?

  But my mother looked back at me and said, “Don’t cry about it. We’re leaving next week. Can’t be packing every picture you make, or the movers would need a second truck.”

  I took my beautiful picture out of the trash and taped it to the refrigerator anyway. And when the movers came, it stayed in place as they loaded everything in the truck and we drove away in the snow.

  When I arrived in Santa Fe, Lucky was at the airport. He swept me up in a dramatic kiss that would make most parents hide the eyes of their children. Even with the growing apprehension of this new adventure, his sweet face made everything seem better. His excitement was contagious, and I got swept up in the clouds with him.

  We took a cab to a little venue called the Dagwood Event Center, which was really a club with an arena name. He carried my bags to the old brown and tan bus. As I walked up the steps, I froze in place. Reality was a bitch sometimes. I had been wrong about the importance of his bus.

  My eyes took in the faded tan walls covered in a layer of dust. The table was dirty and the floor was littered with crunched beer cans. My hand covered my mouth as I tried not to gag.

  The smell came in a toxic cloud, coating my lungs and my stomach with every breath, making the nausea spin in waves. The guys could have at least picked up the trash. His bus was like a damn fraternity house on wheels.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m . . .” Breathe in my nose and out my mouth, in my nose and out my mouth.

  “Katie, I’m sorry.” He had a worried look on his face. “I know this place is fucked up. The guys get carried away. And it’s old. I’d do anything right now to make this nicer. If you don’t want to stay, I can take you back to the airport. I’ll understand.”

  But as he said those words, the light seemed to vanish from his eyes. He wanted me here. I had to give this summer a chance. My nails dug half-moons into the palms of my hands as I plastered on a smile. “We get to be together. That’s all that matters. Right?”

  “Yeah.” He set my bags down on that dirty table and a chill went up my spine. He came over to me, pulling my hands from their death grip, threading his fingers through mine. “I know this is hard for you. So thank you.”

  “And you’ll make them be cleaner?”

  He smiled. “Yes.”

  “Okay. That um . . . that will help. Because this bus makes me question my last tetanus shot date.”

  He laughed at my joke. “I’ve missed how funny you are.”

  “I’ve missed you,” I whispered.

  “I love you.” As his lips touched mine, I felt his hand run over my stomach. Baby orange had grown into baby cantaloupe. Lucky bent down, resting his forehead on my growing bump that was very obvious now. His lips pressed against my T-shirt.

  A tear fell down my cheek. Even though everything about this bus made my skin crawl, that moment right there erased every dirty table and crunched beer can.

  I felt a movement, a very distinguishable movement. I knew they weren’t my imagination anymore. But I felt it and so did Lucky. His head tilted up as the questions danced in his eyes. “Was that . . . is that?”

  “Yeah.” We both laughed, and I was crying.

  “I love you, Katie. More than I ever thought possible.” Lucky wrapped his arms around my whole body, resting his face on my stomach. “And I love her too.”

  I ran my fingers through his hair. “So you think it’s a girl?”

  “Yes. Don’t you?”

  I smiled. “Dr. Phillips said it was too early since I had to move the appointments around.”

  “Well, I think she’s a girl.” Lucky stood up, brushing a kiss on my cheek. “Maybe we should make a bet. If I’m right, then I get to name her. If it’s a boy, you can name him.”

  “I don’t know if I like this idea.”

  “What? You don’t trust me?”

  “No.” I laughed. “Not with something like—”

  But
he kissed the rest of the words away. I was glad I was here with him. For a moment, I didn’t care about anything else but the three of us.

  I still remember the first time I saw Lucky perform. He was pure magic, like a star shooting through the sky. After seeing his official show for the first time, I changed my mind. The guy was a rocket, blasting across the stage. The energy. The voice. And he danced. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The guy who preferred to have a guitar in his hands left it behind for a few songs and actually danced while singing. The crowd loved it.

  We left Santa Fe for Albuquerque. The bus was overcrowded once everyone boarded that night after the show. Lucky and I shared a full-sized bed with a private door. I fell asleep with his arms around me with his hand on my bare stomach while the band partied outside our room.

  I told myself that I could get used to this. I told myself that same thing every morning when I woke up in a different place than where I fell asleep.

  By the first week, life slipped into a pattern of traveling and stopping. And then my back started hurting when I stood too long at the shows. I tried sitting in a chair backstage. But honestly, I just didn’t feel very well.

  And I was never alone.

  Ever.

  We lived on the bus with his band and his manager Roger. He was younger than I expected with a mustache. The ’70s handlebar kind with matching long hair. And the band drank until the early morning hours while playing music or playing poker. They were having the time of their lives. I swear Clark could devour an entire keg by himself. Sometimes they brought girls on board, dropping them off in different cities. I wasn’t even sure how that worked—how they got home.

  Since my days revolved around the never-ending circus, I started spending the concert time on the bus. Sometimes reading but usually cleaning while wearing extra-thick plastic gloves. I didn’t want to know what the guys did with the girls they took with us.

  But mainly it gave me some time alone. I hated missing his shows, but there was something to be cherished about solitude. Those few hours when Lucky performed were the only hours I could hear my own thoughts.

  At the end of June, Lucky was on the Texas leg of the tour. He did a college event in Lubbock and then a small venue in Midland. The air conditioner in the bus broke somewhere between San Angelo and San Antonio. The stale heat intensified the musty smell, and I threw up twice.

  We drove the last two hours with the windows down, at least the ones we could get open. When the bus finally reached San Antonio, Lucky got us a hotel room. I took a real shower and slept in a real bed. For the first time in weeks, I felt better . . . until the next morning, when I boarded the bus again. The driver had gotten the air conditioner fixed and the vents went back to filling every nook and cranny with the scent of mothballs and sweaty ass.

  When the tour reached Austin, Lucky went to the airport and flew back to Nashville. He was gone for two days and we picked him up in Houston. He spent those days with Jack Harlow, finalizing everything for the next tour. The real one with a real bus and better venues.

  After the final show in Kansas City, he would take a few days off in Oklahoma before heading back to Nashville for a couple of weeks. They would leave mid-August for three months. Unless the baby came early, he should be done and home in time for the actual birth.

  At least, that is what he promised me.

  As he played the last few shows in Texas, life on the road was getting harder for me. I was tired all the time. Lucky and I spent most of our alone time together just lying on our bed. Sometimes he whispered little songs to my stomach. It was sweet and made me smile.

  I loved him. And I knew he loved me.

  But I hated life on the road. It was no way of living.

  Lucky worried about me. I could tell. The guilt flashed in his eyes sometimes as he held me. But I never said anything and neither did he.

  I looked out the window, seeing the familiar Tulsa skyline. As the bus moved through the city streets, something came alive in me. It almost felt like home—and Peyton was coming to the show. I was excited to see her. I needed just a glimpse of the familiar, both the city and the people. Things would get better now.

  The bus parked in the area outside of Cain’s Ballroom. This was possibly his favorite stop on the tour. A homecoming of sorts for Lucky. I gathered my stuff, getting ready to leave the bus, but he stopped me. I saw the sad look in his eyes as he pulled me to his chest.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  “I know you hate this. Being out here with me.” The ache was in his voice, a sad, lonesome ache. “We don’t talk about it. But I know.”

  I heard his words, but I didn’t know what to say back. Yes, I hated this. I hated every minute of it. But I loved him. Even though my feelings for him would never cancel out my hatred of actually being on the road, I still loved him.

  “I don’t think we should discuss this today,” I whispered. “You have looked forward to this show the whole time. I want you to have a good time tonight. And I’m excited to see you play. This is one of your dreams. And tonight it’s going to happen.”

  “I know.” He cupped my cheeks with his hands. I stared into his sad eyes. “But I want you to leave with Peyton tonight. Have her take you home. I know you won’t leave on your own. But I know you’re not happy, Katie. You don’t feel well. And I’m a worthless dick if I ask you to stay one more minute.”

  “What? No, I’m not ready to leave you yet.” The tears fell down my cheeks.

  He shook his head. “I want you to leave. This isn’t good for you or the baby. We both know that.”

  “I told you. I would stay until Kansas City. It’s only another ten days. Just let me finish this out. Okay? You’re going to . . .” I swallowed back the ugly tears. “You’re going to leave for three months. I want these last few days.”

  He rested his forehead against mine. “I’m sorry, Katie.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I knew what I was getting into.”

  His nose ran down the length of mine, and then he place a soft kiss on my lips. “Run away with me, Katie.”

  “I already did,” I teased.

  He smiled as his eyes lit up. “I mean right now.”

  And before I could reply, his hand pulled me through the bus and out the front door. The sun hit my face and it took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust. The air was dry and hot as he led me down the sidewalk. I knew where he was taking me without saying a single word.

  As we approached the spot, he wrapped an arm around my waist, brushing a kiss on my cheek. This felt good. It felt right and a rush of happiness filled my heart as Lucky and I stepped on the bricks that defined the Center of the Universe.

  A few people mingled in the area. Lucky linked his fingers through mine as we inched closer together, standing with my sandals between his cowboy boots. We were close. My stomach pressed against him as the smell of hamburgers floated in the air.

  “What are we going to yell?” I asked, but Lucky didn’t reply. I looked back into his eyes. They were softer and I couldn’t read his expression. Something was going on with him. I felt it. “You okay?”

  I heard the sound of birds. And I found myself counting my breaths. I counted to five before I heard his voice and even then, I wasn’t sure if it was real or an echo.

  “Marry me.”

  My eyes opened wide in surprise. I’m not going to lie and say it had never crossed my mind after finding out about the baby, but I just didn’t really think he would actually ask me. I know a baby was a big step, but marriage was . . . something entirely different for us.

  “I know life with me won’t be perfect,” he whispered. “But I’ll do everything I can to make you as happy as you make me. And right now, as I’m standing in this very spot, you and our baby are the center of my universe. And I want you. Forever. Do you want me?”

  “I want you.” I nodded, feeling a tear run down my cheek.

  He wiped it away with his thumb. “Then marry
me.”

  I smiled, feeling several more fall from my lashes. “Yes.”

  His lips crashed against mine. A kiss of new beginnings in a place full of old and sweet memories. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he held me close to his chest. I would never forget this moment.

  Lucky pulled back, staring at me with a sweet smile. Fishing something out of his jeans pocket, he lifted my left hand. “I’ll get you a better ring someday. But I picked this up when I was in Nashville. It’s an antique. Or at least that’s what the guy said at the pawn shop.”

  I stared down at the plain gold ring with a tiny diamond in the center. “You had this planned?”

  “Yeah, I wanted to wait until we got here.” As he slipped the little ring on my finger, the flutters in my chest came alive and wild. He swept me up in his arms, spinning me around in a circle. I laughed as my voice echoed back to us in the Center of the Universe and the diamond chip sparkled in the sunshine.

  Lucky and I entered the front door of Cain’s Ballroom. The place was a time warp of old country nostalgia. Walking across the wooden floor, I saw all the legendary photos of those who had played before him.

  “Katie!” Peyton came rushing up to me. She grabbed me in a quick hug and then backed up with wide eyes. “Oh my gosh! Your stomach is like giant now.”

  I winced, running a hand over the large bump. “Gee, thanks. Missed you too.”

  “You’re so cute, though.” She grinned. “Can I touch?”

  “I’m surprised you asked.”

  She shrugged. “Well, I’m trying to be a better person these days.”

  “Reeeeeally?”

  Her hands ran all over the growing roundness of my stomach. “I love it. So amazing. I can’t believe you are really having a baby.”

  “I see it every moment of every day. And sometimes I can’t either.” I held up my hand. “And I’ve got some other big news too.”

  “What!” she shrieked, grabbing my hand to get a better look. “He didn’t tell me.”