My Lucky Days: A Novel

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My Lucky Days: A Novel Page 28

by S. D. Hendrickson


  His eyes flickered over my flowy pink dress. “You look pretty today.”

  “Don’t,” I whispered.

  “Don’t what?” He grinned, taking a step toward me.

  I took a step back. “Don’t do that.”

  “You’re scared. I get it. I thought giving you some space would help, but I guess it didn’t. So now I’m going to try the opposite of that. No space.”

  He moved forward again, and I moved back another step, getting my heel stuck in a wad of tulle. Bending over, I tried to pull it free and he tried to help. “Stop! You are driving me crazy.”

  “You know, yelling at me just makes me want to kiss you.”

  “Don’t start that today.” Yanking the pink tulle off my shoe, I tried to throw it at him. But something as light as a tissue didn’t travel very far or hit very hard.

  He just laughed, taking another step into my personal space. But I couldn’t move back any more. My back had reached the wall. I glared at him. “You are not kissing me.”

  “But I want to kiss you.” He leaned in a little closer. I felt his breath touching me as he grinned. “Come on, Katie. Let me kiss you.”

  I was afraid to speak. If I moved my lips, they might touch his. So I shook my head no, which caused my nose to brush against his nose.

  I looked into his eyes as his mouth hovered. I could almost taste him in the air between us. I wanted to resist. But I couldn’t. Not when I felt the touch of his lips.

  And then we were kissing.

  My eyes closed, sending me into the beautiful darkness as the clock spun quickly backward, melting the years away. Lucky pressed me against the wall with his hips. His fingers got tangled up in my hair. My body was different now, about twenty pounds different. And I wondered if Lucky noticed.

  He kissed me deep with tongues and gasps for air. Little sparks were firing in my stomach. I remembered this. I remembered the way his kisses were so consuming. My head fell back against the wall, giving him access to my neck. He owned my thoughts as my body responded to the feel of his mouth.

  It felt good. It felt better than good. It felt like home.

  A film reel of our kisses flickered through my mind, letting in the past, letting in the light. Sweet kisses and hard kisses and the ones that were not even on my lips.

  I remembered those explicitly as he unbuttoned the front of my dress. His mouth found its way to my breast. He kissed the soft flesh around the top, running his tongue along the lace edge. My body knew what was coming next—as if a day had never passed since the last time we had done this together.

  “You can’t be doing that in here!” A man’s voice brought everything into perspective.

  Dance performance.

  Community theater.

  Public theater.

  Lucky pulled my dress together and looked over his shoulder. “Sorry, man. We just got a little carried away. You know how it is when you haven’t seen each other in a while.”

  “There’s children here. The parents will shut us down. Sorry, but I gotta kick you out of the theater.”

  “Look, it’s my niece’s recital. Please. We will behave. I promise.”

  The guy came a little closer and looked surprised. “Lucky?”

  And then the two old friends were laughing and shaking hands as I discreetly buttoned my dress back up. “Hey, Katie, this is Chris Price. We graduated high school together. Actually, he was my lab partner in biology.”

  I knew my cheeks were still bright red. “Nice to meet you, Chris.”

  “You too, Katie. Well, I better get back in there. The show is about to start. It was nice to see you again, Lucky. And if y’all promise not to get my wife banned from using the community theater, I won’t kick you out.”

  He laughed. “Sure thing.”

  Lucky and I followed him out the door. As we walked down the hallway, they started talking again. “So you come back and visit very often, Lucky?”

  “Not a lot in the past, but I’m in the process of moving back right now.”

  “Really? You should give me a call sometime.” Chris reached in his wallet, pulling out an insurance agency business card and handed it to Lucky. “Maybe we can grab a beer and catch up.”

  “I will.” He tucked it down in his jeans pocket. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “See, it can be normal here.”

  I elbowed him in the ribs, and he laughed. “So, Chris, you got married? Anyone I know?”

  “Yeah, about four years ago to Willa Carter. She didn’t go to school with us. We’ve got a three-year-old daughter too.”

  “Really?” Lucky nodded as his radiant smile lit up his brown eyes. “My son Sam is three.”

  It sounded so strange to hear him say it out loud. To say it with such pride in his voice. Glancing over at Chris, I saw the surprise on his face. “Wow. I didn’t know you had a kid.”

  “Yeah, it’s a recent thing.”

  It didn’t seem to faze his high school friend. “Well, maybe instead of that beer we should get the kids together. I’ll talk Willa into a cookout or something.”

  “Sounds good. Maybe I can talk Katie into coming too.”

  I looked back and forth between them. What just happened? Suddenly, we were going to a cookout together—as a family. I gave him a quick have-you-lost-your-mind glare. But Lucky just winked at me.

  We arrived back at the auditorium entrance and I went inside with Lucky just a step behind me. As I reached the row with Hannah, I slipped into my seat to get away from him.

  “I’ll talk to you later.” He leaned down next to my ear and whispered as his lips grazed my neck. “Or not talk.”

  My skin turned warm as he disappeared down the aisle to the row with his family. He sat in the open seat next to his mother.

  I turned my attention to the stage as a tall brunette walked toward the center with a microphone. “Thank y’all for coming out this afternoon. I’m Willa Price, owner and instructor of the dance academy. Over the last three months, these kids have worked really hard. I am so incredibly proud of them. I know some of my dancers are nervous today. It’s their first performance. Let’s send them a little encouragement.” She clapped next to the microphone as the audience joined in with her.

  A group of girls in purple fluffy skirts and black top hats filled the stage. As the students moved into their positions, Hannah leaned over and whispered, “So is he still a good kisser?”

  “What?” I hissed.

  “You got a little lipstick right there.” She pointed to the right side of my mouth.

  “Shit.” I wiped with my thumb, realizing I had stood there talking to his friend with it on my face. “He could have at least said something.”

  “I have a feeling that was the point.” She smirked.

  The music came from the speakers, but I couldn’t look away from the people sitting five rows in front of me. Lucky was next to Colleen. Sam reached for him, crawling into his lap. He rested his head against his chest.

  They were already so natural together. A child who was dependent on this man, who was not his father, but gave of himself like one.

  “I think it’s time for us to have that wine,” I whispered. I loved Peyton dearly, but she couldn’t help me with this problem. I needed someone who understood the complexity of what Lucky was asking of me.

  She smiled. “I’m free after this. Maybe we can get those bowls done too.”

  The air blew through the screened-in patio that overlooked Hannah’s immaculate backyard. I placed the brush against the dried clay, making a red stripe, trying to match the other bowls. It appeared straight and perfect. But deep down, I knew there was no such thing as perfection. People yearned for perfect houses and perfect families. Perfect lawns. Perfect faces.

  Like my mother.

  Two years ago, I made the trip to California to see my parents. Her eyebrows were stretched so far up her forehead, I spent the whole weekend thinking she was asking me a question. Yet, I’m sure my mother thought she was perfect
ly beautiful.

  And I watched people like Hannah. She was about seven years older than me, established in life with a genuinely nice and successful husband. They had two adorable kids. She even had an actual white picket fence. To me, they were perfect. No drama or heartache. But deep down, I knew she didn’t have a perfect life.

  No one really did.

  Perfection was just an illusion built up in a person’s mind. Just another form of self-inflicted torture, making all the broken pieces hurt even worse.

  But even knowing the truth didn’t stop my own idea of perfect from ruining my life.

  As a kid, I remember sitting in house after house, city after city, imagining a different life for myself where I had control over my circumstances. I had created an impossible illusion.

  I watched the wine flowing into my glass, stopping dangerously close to the top. Hannah put the bottle back down. “I have to say, I would have never guessed the great love of your life was Landon Evans.”

  “I didn’t say that he was the love of my life.” I took a sip from the top without picking it up.

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “We weren’t even together that long. It wasn’t even a year.”

  “Length of time doesn’t really matter.” She sat back down, picking up her brush. The bowls were a present for her mother-in-law. We had done a set for Hannah’s mom last year.

  “It has to matter. The more time you spend together, the more epic the love. ”

  “That’s not true.” She pursed her lips deep in thought. “You know, there’s so many stories of men going off to war and meeting the love of their life just days before leaving. And that love keeps them alive. We are talking just hours of love that keeps them going for months, even years.”

  Cleaning off my brush, I moved to the yellow paint. “I don’t think that’s the same as my relationship with Lucky.”

  “Maybe. But you did fall in love with him quickly. Like the deep kind. And you almost had a child together. There’s like some unspoken bond that develops from that. I remember when I was pregnant with Linley.” She flinched. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. That was tacky of me to talk about that right now.”

  “No, it’s okay.” I smiled sadly. “Just because my story didn’t end well doesn’t mean you can’t tell me yours.”

  She reached over, giving my hand a quick squeeze. “You have a big heart, Katie. I hope you know that. It’s why you’re good at your job and why you’re an amazing and thoughtful friend.”

  I smiled at her, feeling the guilt inside. An amazing friend would have shared this with her years ago. I almost did. Several times. But to tell meant to feel. And I didn’t want to feel those words when I said them to her.

  “So when I was pregnant with Linley. She wasn’t even born yet. And it changed how I looked at Jake. I loved the guy before. But knowing a part of him and a part of me were mixing together, creating this other human. I don’t know. It changed things. Changed how I felt about him. And no matter what happens in our future, it doesn’t change that bond. It happened with you and Lucky too. Doesn’t matter how long you were together. And then the way it ended? That created another bond of shared heartbreak.”

  “Maybe, but things are different now with us.”

  “Are they really?”

  “Yes.” I stared off into the yard at the pink flowers. “I let him go.”

  “Doesn’t mean you don’t still love him.” She grinned.

  “But it’s more than just him. There’s Sam too.”

  She set her paintbrush down, pushing a dark strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you against the idea? Taking on a child who isn’t yours?”

  “Not completely. But he dropped all of this on me at once. I’m . . .” I searched for the words. Time doesn’t always make the heartbreak better. Sometimes a heartbreak manifests and turns into something worse.

  “I get it. You’re afraid.” She said as her eyebrows pinched up.

  “What if he lets me close to Sam, but Lucky and I can’t get along?” I asked. “What happens then? What if he takes him away? I can’t go through something like that.”

  “That’s the thing, Katie. Everything you do has the same potential outcome. The future is like those black holes in space. Scientists don’t even know what crazy crap is inside of those things. Go through one and anything could get spit out on the other side.”

  “So what are you saying? I should just go all in and see what happens? Because that terrifies the crap out of me. We’re talking about becoming an overnight family with a guy I haven’t seen in a really long time. And let’s not forget the part about him being an actual celebrity.” I picked up my glass, fighting the urge to just drink until it was all gone. Panic had that kind of effect on me.

  “Believe me. I haven’t forgotten that part.” She laughed. “But let me ask you this. That story you told me? If you could go back to that night at Dusty’s when he asked you to dinner. If you knew at that very moment how it all would end with Lucky, would you say no to him that night?”

  Those big decisions. Those moments in time. Those crossroads. That whole night had been a chain of events that had started with Peyton, convincing me to put on that costume and pulling me out the door. Little decisions that added up to a big one.

  I set my glass down, thinking deeply about the question. Saying no would imply that Lucky had been a mistake. The child we almost had together had been a mistake. I couldn’t do that. I would never wish for her not to have existed.

  “I would still say yes,” I whispered.

  She smiled. “Then I think you have your answer.”

  “To what?”

  “To what you are supposed to do about Lucky and Sam. You just agreed to live the worst pain you have ever experienced all over again, knowing from the very beginning that it would crush you. But you don’t care. You would take it just to have the good days. Am I right?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded slowly as I thought about what she was saying.

  “Okay. Then go live this new adventure with Lucky. Because this one doesn’t have an end yet. You have no idea what will happen. Spend time with the guy who came back. You’re both older. And hopefully a little wiser. Maybe this time will be different. You just have to give it a real chance.”

  I laughed as the fear and excitement moved in a slow dance, spinning and twirling around together in a beautiful waltz. Maybe I could do this. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe it wouldn’t. But as someone once told me, we couldn’t worry about the maybes.

  The confidence that grew in Hannah’s backyard quickly disappeared when I returned home. The house was empty, and Peyton was gone on her flight rotation. I paced around for a few minutes until the moving turned into scrubbing the kitchen floor by hand.

  After an hour, I pulled my yellow rubber glove off and picked up my phone. The screen was blank. I sat there for a moment, staring off into space as the memory from this afternoon played in my mind. I reached up, touching my lips, running my fingers against them as I thought of the way it felt to have him kiss me again.

  Putting my glove back on, I went to work on the baseboards. I had a choice. It wasn’t a simple one. But I was blinded by emotions and fear. I just wasn’t sure how to move past that part.

  I cleaned through the rest of the evening until the house sparkled and smelled of lemons. After a shower, I crawled into bed and picked up my phone. And there it was. I had three messages. I knew he would contact me after what happened today.

  LUCKY: I’m lying here right now. I’m staring at the damn ceiling. Sometimes I wonder what you think about as you fall asleep. I used to know because you told me. Almost every night. But now I don’t. So I’m going to tell you what I’m thinking about.

  LUCKY: I love you. It’s that simple for me. The rest we can figure out. I know it’s been years. I know this is bigger than us too. My mama once said that God tells you the right answer in your heart. You can choose to listen to that advice or not. My heart says this is right
. I feel it. I hear it. And I can’t ignore it. My heart told me to put Sam in my truck. And that same heart told me nine years ago to take you home with me for Christmas. To ask you to marry me. And right now, my heart is telling me not to give up. Not to let you go. So I’m here when you’re ready.

  LUCKY: Good night, Katie.

  I read the message again before setting the phone back on my dresser. A tear fell down my cheek. His words always had a way of getting to me. But I don’t know what touched me more: when he used to send me song lyrics or his newfound honesty.

  Before the sun even touched the sky, I stumbled around the house, looking worse than Peyton on a typical morning. I had tossed around for hours after reading his message. I even started typing a reply at one point. But I couldn’t find the right words. I couldn’t string together the right thoughts. Maybe I just didn’t know the right answer.

  I was even more exhausted when I stepped into the classroom. I had to get pepped up, but I was dreading it. The kids were hyper now with only a week left of school. I drank four cups of coffee, sending me to their level of wired and distracted.

  I went outside at lunch, sitting alone on a bench. Beads of sweat trickled down my back, making little wet spots on my flowery dress. It was going to be a killer of a summer. My eyes closed and my thoughts wandered back to his words last night.

  I sucked in a deep breath, smelling the air full of flowers and grass. The world disappeared, and I heard it. My own heart beating. Maybe it was the caffeine driving me into fits. Or maybe it was much more. But I listened. And I felt suddenly calmer.

  After lunch, I found Hannah and asked if she could cover the after-school program for me today. She didn’t even hesitate. When the last student left my room, I made a beeline toward my car and went in the opposite direction of my home—down a red dirt road toward a certain set of railroad tracks.

  I searched for thirty minutes before locating the hidden gravel driveway that led to a massive construction site with building materials and piles of rock. I scanned the area, seeing the new blue truck and the familiar older one. As I got out of my car, I laughed at how ridiculous this place was going to be once it was finished.

 

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