My Lucky Days: A Novel

by S. D. Hendrickson

  “Peyton called me earlier. She said you asked her to come but didn’t know why.”

  I blinked at him a few seconds before responding. “Did you tell her?”

  “Yeah.”

  I felt a small break in the dark hole that was building inside my heart. I wouldn’t have to explain. And then I remembered the last time I saw her. Just a week ago. Things had been so different a week ago.

  Lucky came over next to me on the bed and sat down. Picking up my hand, he kissed the tip of each finger. I waited for my heart to start beating again.

  But it didn’t.

  “I’m so sorry, Katie. I keep thinking about what happened. It’s my fault. I-I should have never asked you to come. I’m . . . sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” My voice cracked on the words, and I cleared my throat. “It’s not anyone’s fault. These things just happen.”

  “They just happen?” He stared at me.

  “Yeah. At least, that’s what the doctor said. Maybe you weren’t there . . . when she said it.”

  He wiped a tear from his eye. “I hate that I wasn’t there. Please know, I-I would never do something like that on purpose.”

  “I know,” I whispered.

  “I promise you. You’ll never go through something like . . .” His voice died off. “You’ll never be in the hospital alone again. I will always be there. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Something in my heart lurched. I felt his words but not in the way Lucky intended.

  “You can’t make that promise to me,” I whispered.

  His finger trailed over my cheek. “Yes, I can. I’ll change stuff. I’ll handle it differently. We are getting married. I will be here for you.”

  “We both know that’s not possible. This isn’t a one-foot-here and one-foot-there kind of thing. You can’t be in both worlds. You’ll fail at being a husband and your career will go nowhere.”

  “What are you saying?” His face grew serious.

  “I-I don’t know.” My throat burned and the tears fell down my cheeks. I wasn’t sure what I was saying either.

  Looking around my room, I saw the sunlight coming through my window. It cast a warm glow across my room.

  “Maybe I could stay.”

  My eyes caught his. “What?”

  “I can tell Jack no. And I can work for Colt. Pick up a few shows here and there. Like I was doing before.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “I will. Just tell me to do it. And I will.”

  I sat up in bed, feeling the pain in my body. The pain of where something used to be. “I won’t do that.”

  “You need me here. Just say that’s what you want.”

  And my head started spinning, like that time I went on the Tilt-a-Whirl at the fair. I had been eleven. It was in a suburb of Chicago. My parents had left for the weekend. And I walked four miles to a fair. I rode the Ferris wheel and the Tilt-a-Whirl by myself. I remembered that day. It smelled of sunshine. And cotton candy. I even ate some on the four-mile walk back home.

  “Katie?”

  The room came back into focus, and I realized Lucky had my face cupped in his hands. He leaned in, brushing a kiss against my forehead. As I looked into his sad brown eyes, I saw my own broken reflection.

  Do I ask him to stay? Do I tell him to go?

  Either way, our beautiful relationship would eventually get ugly.

  I would hate him. He would hate me.

  It would destroy us.

  I didn’t want it to end ugly.

  I didn’t want it to end at all.

  But we couldn’t go on like this.

  We shouldn’t do this anymore.

  “What?” Confusion flashed through his brown eyes, and I realized those words had been said out loud. Lucky shook his head, pulling me to his chest. I felt his heart beating against my cheek. “Don’t say things like that.”

  I let him hold me. I let his hands rub against my back. I let his lips brush against my cheek. And finally he loosened the tight grip. As we looked at each other, my thoughts spun into clarity. Like on that Tilt-a-Whirl. Fast and vibrant.

  “Katie?”

  My thoughts snapped together and I saw his sweet face. I struggled to keep my voice steady. “I love you, Lucky. I really do.”

  His face crumbled. “Don’t say it, Katie.”

  “But we want different things. I’ve always known that and I told myself I could live with only having half of you. But I can’t. I know that now. I just want something simple here. I don’t want a life on the road and I don’t want a husband who is always gone. I don’t want to be here alone. Doing life alone. I just can’t. And yesterday, I never felt more alone in my life.”

  “Katie . . .” He lifted my hand up, holding his lips against my skin. “I’m so, so sorry. It fucking kills me and I would do anything to change what happened.”

  I smiled sadly. “I know you would.”

  “Then don’t say this is over. We can make this work. I would do anything for you, Katie.”

  “I know you would. But I would never ask you to give up your dream. The one you had before I ever existed in your life. And that dream is part of the reason I fell in love with you. Lucky, I would never take that away from you. And you shouldn’t let me.”

  “But, Katie . . . I could, maybe.”

  “No.” I ran my thumb over his lips as the tears fell down my cheeks. “You said . . . you said if it was ever too much. You’d walk away from me. No questions asked. I’m . . . I’m . . . telling you . . . it’s too much.”

  I sucked in a deep breath, feeling the painful sob consume me. I couldn’t keep anything together anymore. This was the right decision. I was doing the right thing. But sometimes, the right thing hurt.

  “No,” he whispered. “I’m not going to let you do this.”

  “You p-promised.”

  “But that was before I fell in love with you and wanted to marry you and had a baby.” His voice trailed off as his face crushed and the tears flowed freely down his cheeks and onto my hands. “I’ll fight you on this.”

  “Please . . . no.”

  “You’re asking me to just . . . just let you go?”

  “Yes. I don’t want to hate you, Lucky. I don’t want you to hate me. Your life is just beginning. And you need someone who can live that life with you. You need someone different than me.” I wiped my tears across my wrist. “I want you to walk out of here and for us to not hate each other. I want this to be a good goodbye.”

  “There’s no such thing as a fucking good goodbye.” The anger flared up for a moment. In all these months together, I had never seen him upset with me. His pupils dilated for a second. And the guy who always laughed—who always made me laugh—had flames in his eyes.

  I counted my breaths as we stared at each other.

  And then the fire disappeared as quickly as it had surfaced. “Is this what you really want?”

  I wanted to live happily ever after with him. I wanted us to have a baby and a beautiful life. I wanted us to be together every day and fall asleep at night wrapped in each other’s arms. I wanted to feel his kisses at eighty years old. And dance together at sixty. I wanted him to sing to me on a summer day at thirty.

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Then I’ll um . . . move my stuff back into the pool house.”

  “You should take it to your apartment in Nashville. You need to go all in, Lucky.” I smiled sadly. “Don’t wait around here anymore.”

  He pulled me into his arms. I got a whiff of his cologne mixed with soap. I would miss that smell. I choked back another round of ugly sobs. I was setting him free. This was for the best.

  His lips brushed my cheek and he held me for a while. I reached up, running my hands through his soft hair one last time.

  Our love had been a bright spark in the middle of a dark night. Vibrant and wild. But something that consumed all its power in a giant burst couldn’t stay burning forever.


  His gaze caught mine and he gave me a sad smile. “Do you regret it, Katie? Do you regret me?”

  “No.” I touched the scruff on his cheek. “I had fun with you, Lucky.”

  The pain inside was so strong I could barely breathe the words. Those moments with him had been beautiful. I would never forget my days with Lucky.

  Because those were truly my lucky days.

  He turned his head slightly, kissing my wrist. “Maybe if we had met earlier or maybe later.”

  “Maybe,” I whispered. But someone had once said we couldn’t worry about the maybes and I understood that more now than ever.

  He took my hand, placing it over his heart. “You’ll always be in here. No matter what happens out there. No matter where I go. You’ll be the only one in here.”

  I should have told him not to say that. But I couldn’t.

  Lucky pulled me against his body. He rocked me in his arms. At first, it was a faint hum and then his words came in a whisper against my ear. He sang my song. And I let him. I let his words be for me and only me—one last time.

  Eight Years Later

  Lucky was a star now. He was an actual country music celebrity. He had sold millions of albums and packed hundreds of arenas. Sometimes his success still didn’t seem real. Sometimes the time I had spent with him didn’t seem real either. Sometimes it felt like something I had dreamed or imagined.

  And then sometimes it felt like yesterday.

  I still couldn’t shake his sudden appearance last night after all these years. And his face still haunted my thoughts this morning as the nurse rolled me out the front door of the hospital in a wheelchair.

  I put a hand over my eyes, blocking out the painful rays that were amplified by my head injury. I waited as Hannah pulled up in her blue Honda Civic. My bruised ribs hurt more today than yesterday and I winced as I got into the seat. No more roofs and no more gutters ever again.

  “Want me to take you anywhere or straight home?”

  “Home,” I grunted. The idea of being anywhere but in my bed sounded appalling. I just wanted to be surrounded by the familiar and to make the pounding inside my head disappear—and I wasn’t talking about the concussion. Seeing Lucky made everything spin around and hurt.

  I had literally been knocked unconscious and visited by the ghost of Christmas past.

  “So are you really not going to tell me? After all this time, you never mentioned once that you knew Landon Evans.”

  I glanced over at Hannah, seeing her inquisitive smile. We had met about four years ago when she moved into town because her husband took a job at the college. We both taught at the elementary school together and her daughter Linley was even in my class. But it was our mutual love of pottery that had cemented us as friends.

  I was obsessed with it now. I loved the way the clay felt between my fingers. So dirty, yet cleansing, like an earthy bar of soap.

  But it was a good constructive outlet. I liked how it felt, creating things with my hands. And I had beautiful things to place around my house. I made vases and bowls and flowerpots. And then Hannah and I would paint them together while drinking Shiraz. We had shared many stories over the last few years, which explained her confusion about Lucky.

  Glancing over in her direction, I sucked in a deep breath, feeling it crush against every damn rib. “There’s not much to say.”

  “Yeah, right. You act like it’s normal to have a famous country singer show up in your hospital room.” She stopped at the light, tapping her finger on the steering wheel. Her dark hair framed her face in a sharp bob. “Just answer this. When did you meet him?”

  I knew Hannah wouldn’t let this go. But I wasn’t sure how much I really wanted to say. It wasn’t always easy to visit the past. “College. I knew him at the end of college.”

  “Was he a singer then?”

  “Not like he is now.” I shook my head, feeling the marbles shake inside—imaginary marbles, knocked loose by a very real cement driveway. “He was just getting started. We met one night when he performed at Dusty’s Saloon.”

  “Was he as cute back then as he is now?” She laughed. “I’m sure the answer to that is yes.”

  It was an innocent question and I knew she meant no harm. Hannah was a sweet person. But I no longer wanted to be in this conversation. Closing my eyes, I put my hand over my face to block the sun. The stupid fall off my roof had cracked open a hole into the past that I wasn’t ready to discuss.

  “I’m sorry, Katie. I won’t ask anything else. Every woman is entitled to her secrets.”

  “I’m not hiding anything. Just maybe not today. Because this might take some wine and no concussion.”

  She laughed. “Sounds good.”

  The drive to my house was relatively short from the hospital. We reached the driveway in only a few turns.

  “Uh, Katie? Someone’s here.”

  My stomach flipped as I opened my eyes, expecting the worst. But instead I saw the large truck in the driveway with the logo EVANS’S HOMES on the side in green. Quickly scanning the yard, I spotted a ladder on the north side and a man cleaning out the gutter.

  I gasped in pain while getting out of the front seat, which only made my chest hurt more with the quick intake of breath. As I slowly crossed the yard, the man climbed down and gave a little wave.

  I smiled, letting out a painful breath. “What are you doing, Colt?”

  “What I would have done yesterday if you had just called me. Instead, you cracked your head and made my brother flip out, which by the way, thank you. He’s being a real pissant right now after seeing you at the hospital.”

  “Yet, I’m sure your mama still finds it adorable.” I smiled, shaking my head. The town was small and we’d crossed paths many times over the last few years. But it had probably been a good eight or ten months since the last time.

  He came over to me and leaned in for a loose hug. “I don’t want to hurt you. That was a nasty fall you took.”

  “You’re fine.” I pressed against him, despite the pain.

  It felt good to see Colt. I’d missed him and his family. They had never taken the break-up very well. We stayed in touch for a while. I even had dinner with them a few times. They never meant any harm, but their conversations always made it back to Lucky. He was their glue. The shining star of their family.

  Spending time with them just got too hard. And I had to gradually let them go too.

  Stepping back a few feet, I glanced up toward the roof. “After yesterday’s visit, I’m surprised Lucky didn’t try to do this himself.”

  “I think he would have. But he had to fly out this morning.”

  “I see.” The flutters of sadness filled my chest. And then I hated the way it made me feel. It was ridiculous.

  “One of the big awards shows is tomorrow night. He was already set to perform or he would have stayed.” His eyebrows pinched up. “He’s pretty determined. You should probably know that.”

  “What do you mean?” I shuffled around, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. I tossed a glance over at Hannah.

  “He wants to fix this with you, Katie.”

  I swallowed, feeling the pain in my forehead amplify. “There’s nothing to fix.”

  “He’s under the impression it was his fault. And he wants to fix it.”

  “That was a long time ago. And it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Sometimes things just happen and . . . there’s not a reason.” I grasped for words as I looked back up into his concerned eyes. We had been so young. In some ways, we had still been kids. “It’s been years. There’s not any bad blood between us. Never was. So tell him there’s nothing to fix.”

  “Things have changed recently in his life. Maybe you should sit down and actually talk to him.”

  I shook my head, feeling slightly dizzy again. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I’m not going to lie and say I understand. But it’s your business.”

  We stood there for a moment and I looked back over at my friend
, seeing an opportunity to change the subject. “Hey, so this is Hannah. She teaches with me. And Hannah. This is Colt Evans.”

  He smiled in her direction. “Nice to meet you. Glad Katie has someone to help her out today.”

  “Thanks. Nice to meet you too.” She smiled at the not-so-famous brother.

  I was tired of holding everything together while standing in my yard for the world to see—specifically Colt. “Well, I’m getting tired. I probably should head inside. Thank you for cleaning out the gutters. That was nice of you.”

  “Anytime, Katie. I mean it.” He glanced back toward the house. “I’ll finish up and then leave. But um . . . if you want. Mia has a ballet recital coming up. I’m sure she would love for you to come.”

  “Okay.” I let out a deep breath, wanting to say no, but I really would like to see the kids. “Maybe Callie can text me the information.”

  “I’ll tell her. Take care. Hope you feel better.”

  I walked slowly toward the house with Hannah beside me. “You don’t have to stay.”

  “You sure?” She frowned. “Maybe you shouldn’t be alone.”

  “It’s fine. My roommate will be back in town later. Besides, I just want to get some sleep. I won’t be that entertaining.”

  “Okay.” She gave me a quick hug. “But call if you need anything. I’m just ten minutes away.”

  “Thank you.”

  Once inside the house, I got a glass of water and took a pain pill for my bruised ribs. My head continued to pound in a synchronized pattern, but I knew nothing would make it better. Only time. And that was for the concussion and the memories.

  My phone buzzed and I looked at it a second, seeing Ryan’s name on the screen. I’m sure he’d heard about the accident. I silenced the ringer, letting it go to voicemail, which was not a good idea. I let out a deep breath before typing a quick text to keep him from showing up at my house. I’m surprised I didn’t get a visit from my other ex at the hospital too.

  ME: I’m fine. Don’t worry.

  RYAN: You were in the hospital, and I had to hear about it from my mother.

  ME: I’m sorry.

  RYAN: Let me come take care of you.