Lucky 13

by Rachael Brownell

  “Open your hand, Madison,” Grant says, pushing my hand toward me.

  Slowly I unwrap my fingers from around the object and inhale sharply when I see what he’s placed in my palm. I can’t believe he kept it all these years.

  “You still have it. I can’t believe it.”

  “Of course I kept it. You gave it to me. Now I’m giving it to you.”

  Staring at Grant, I see nothing but love in his eyes. I feel his love in my heart as it beats wildly in my chest, an overwhelming love words will never be able to describe. It’s as if our souls are entwined, always dancing around one another.

  Libby clears her throat, attempting to get my attention, but I can’t look away from Grant. I wrap the bracelet around my wrist and Grant ties it for me, softly running his thumb across the slightly faded material before letting my hand go.

  “I’m confused,” she announces. We obviously can’t tell her when I gave it to him or why. “You told me you were going to give her a bracelet for her birthday. I thought you were going to buy her something, not make her something.”

  Grant chuckles but never breaks eye contact with me as he speaks. “I thought about it, but decided against it.”

  “Okay. Am I missing something here?” Libby sounds irritated, and I’m sure if I were to look at her I would see her irritation as well.

  “It’s kind of an inside joke, Libby,” I reply, forcing myself to break eye contact with Grant.

  “Well, care to fill the rest of us in?” she asks, motioning between her and Chester who hasn’t said much tonight but has a knowing look on his face.

  “Maybe later,” I reply, grabbing my purse from under the table and sliding out of the booth. “Ready to go?”

  Grant slides out of the booth, throwing his arm over my shoulder and leads us out of the restaurant, Libby and Chester walking quickly to catch up. We try to part ways with them in the parking lot, but Libby isn’t having it. She invites everyone back to my place to play cards and hang out. I look at her, eyes open wide, nodding in Grant’s direction, desperately hoping that she gets the message that I want to be alone with Grant. The sly grin that slowly spreads across her lips tells me that she doesn’t care.

  Two hours later Chester is finally able to pull her out the door. I quickly lock it behind them and rest my head against the door in frustration. I love that girl, but she knew exactly what she was doing.

  “Are you going to take a nap against the door or would you prefer to lie on the couch with me?” Grant asks from behind me.

  Pushing off the door, I turn to find Grant lying on the couch already, a blanket held open, inviting me to join him. I tilt my head slightly as I stare at him, wondering how I got so lucky.

  I fall asleep as soon as Grant’s body warms mine. When I wake up, it’s a little after one in the morning and Grant is sleeping soundly behind me. It takes me a few minutes to shake him awake. Once I finally do, he strips down to his underwear and crawls under the covers in bed. I change into something more comfortable and curl up with him, falling back to sleep instantly.

  Ringing wakes me as the sun starts to shine through the windows, the curtains still open, letting the light in. I sit up and look around for my cell phone, but I don’t see it, so I crawl out of bed and follow the sound of the ringing. When I find the source, I run back to the bedroom and shake Grant, attempting to wake him up before the ringing stops.

  “Grant! Your mom is calling,” I holler at him as I vigorously push against his shoulder.

  “Hmm. What?” His eyes flutter open slightly before closing again.

  “Grant!”

  “I’m up. Tell her I’ll call her back later,” he mumbles before rolling over and attempting to fall back asleep.

  Staring at his phone, I contemplate answering it when the ringing stops. I breathe a sigh of relief just before it starts again. I can’t answer it. I can’t do it. How awkward would that be?

  Hello, Ms. Fisher. He’s asleep still and wants me to tell you that he’ll call you back later.

  Um, not going to happen.

  “Grant. Answer it. I can’t.” I shake him violently until he grabs the phone out of my hand, answering it without opening his eyes.

  “Yeah. Sorry. Okay. Sure. Love you too. Okay.” Grant tosses his phone on the bed and curls back into the covers.

  “Uh, are you in trouble?”

  “No. Why would I be?” His voice is hoarse from sleep, but I can tell he’s fully awake now.

  “Maybe because you haven’t been home since Friday morning,” I suggest.

  “It’s not like she didn’t know where I was. She says hello by the way.”

  What? She knew he was here? That he stayed the night? Does she know we slept together? I’ll never be able to look her in the eyes again. She must think I’m a slut. I can’t believe she knows that he’s here and she’s okay with it.

  “Quit freaking out, Madison, and come back to bed. It’s cold without you.” Rolling over, Grant opens his eyes and looks up at me.

  Not sure what to do, I give in to the puppy dog eyes Grant is giving me right now and crawl back in bed. Grant starts snoring a few minutes later while I lie awake in bed and think about everything that’s happened in the last few days. Staring at the bracelet tied to my wrist, I can’t help but smile as Grant holds me tight.

  When we finally get out of bed a few hours later, I attempt to make us a late breakfast while Grant starts on his homework. After we eat, I join him and we sit in comfortable silence most of the afternoon, working away. I glance over at him every once in a while, admiring the array of frustrated looks on his face, each one cuter than the last.

  Grant promised his mom that he would be home for dinner. After he leaves, I put a frozen pizza in the oven and watch it carefully so that it doesn’t burn. A few minutes before it’s supposed to come out, my bladder screams at me and I run to the bathroom, getting back just as the crust starts to char a little.

  Sitting alone for the first time in days, eating quite possibly the worst frozen pizza I’ve ever had, I try and think of what I’m going to tell Libby tomorrow when she starts asking about the bracelet and about Grant. I’ll have to lie to her about one of those things. The other, I could tell her the truth, but not at school. I have a feeling that Loud Libby wouldn’t be able to keep her cool and people would start to stare. I’m already going to blush when I tell her, even more so if people are looking at me.

  ***

  I’m able to avoid Libby’s barrage of questions for a few days, but by the time Thursday rolls around, she’s less than accepting of me avoiding the subject. She wants answers, so I make a deal with her. I’ll tell her what she wants to know if she comes over after work that night. Grant won’t be around since he has a late practice and a test to study for.

  When she pushes through my front door just after eight, I’m immediately nervous. I have no idea what she’s going to say when I tell her what happened. She’s completely forgotten about the bracelet up to this point, but that may not last much longer. Grant and I decided on a story last night in case Libby ever decided to ask him about it.

  “So, tell me everything,” Libby hollers from the kitchen as she grabs a water from the fridge.

  “About what?”

  “Seriously. You promised you’d tell me if I came over. Start talking,” she demands, plopping down on the couch next to me, taking a sip of her water. When I don’t start talking right away, she rolls her eyes at me, placing her water bottle on the table. “Fine. I’ll ask you questions then. First, how was it?”

  “It was good, I-I think,” I stutter, unsure of my answer.

  “It gets better. The first time is always the worst. It’s just weird. Did he use protection?”

  “Of course!”

  “Good. I didn’t want to have to break his arm. How do you feel about it now?” She’s watching my every move as she probes me for answers, so I’m trying not to fidget.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Have y
ou guys talked about it? Are you going to do it again or was it an oops?”

  I don’t want to tell her that it’s happened again since that first night. “I think we’re on the same page. Things are good.”

  Raising an eyebrow suspiciously at me, Libby lets me get away with my answer. “I’m sure they are. So, what’s the deal with the bracelet then?”

  Ugh! “It’s a joke. He found it when I was moving and I told him about a friend I had a long time ago who gave it to me,” I say, twisting my wrist with the bracelet tied to it, “but I couldn’t remember her name. I said that it didn’t mean much if I couldn’t even remember the name of the person who gave it to me. He was pouting because no one ever gave him one, making fun of me, so I gave it to him.”

  “No offense, but that’s kind of lame. He could have at least bought you something, too,” Libby says, taking another sip of water before relaxing back into the couch.

  “He could have, but it wouldn’t have meant as much. I guess you had to be there to understand,” I try to explain.

  She nods her head, accepting the lie I just told her as the truth. She’s right, it is a stupid story, but it was the best we could come up with on short notice. It seems to have done the job it was intended to do, so I’m not worried about it.

  After trying for an hour to get details out of me, Libby finally leaves with as little information as I could get away with giving her. I turn in for the night, exhausted from her barrage of questions. Lying in bed, I twist the bracelet around and around on my wrist, admiring the real sentiment it stands for. I never would have thought that he kept it all these years. A few worn out pieces of string, braided and tied together, stand for more than I can even begin to explain. It’s as if the story of our lives are weaved together in a pattern similar to those in the bracelet. A story that started long ago.

  As I start to fall asleep, I think back on the day that I gave it to him. It was a sad day, but from that day a love has grown and blossomed. There are so many different directions in which our lives could have gone, but somehow we ended up here, together. For that, I will forever be thankful.

  “Are you ready to go, Madison?” I can hear Grandma hollering for me from the porch, but I pretend not to hear her. I want a few more minutes with Joshua.

  “You better get going. That’s the second time she’s called for you.”

  “I’d rather stay here. I don’t want to go to the beach. When I get back you might not be here.” Pouting as I say the words, I hold back the tears that are threatening to spill from my eyes.

  “I’ll be here. I promise,” he says, squeezing my hand.

  “Madison. We have to go. Please,” Grandma yells again.

  “Go. I’ll see you soon.”

  I stare at Joshua for a minute, trying to memorize his face. His hazel eyes are sparkling in the morning light as he stares at me, doing the same I imagine. The only thing I can think to say is goodbye, and I can’t bring myself to say that. I won’t.

  Kissing me softly on the lips, Joshua stands and helps me up. We walk back to the house silently, hand in hand. Grandma is waiting on the porch for me. I expect her to be upset or irritated, but she’s none of those things, judging by the smile on her face.

  “We have to get on the road, Madison.” Turning her attention to Joshua she says, “Your mother is waiting for you in the den.”

  Following Grandma into the house, Joshua finally lets go of my hand as we reach the front door. With a wink and a wave, he slowly walks away, looking over his shoulder a few times. I hold the tears at bay until I’m in the car, safely out of sight. Staring at the house as Grandma backs out of the driveway, I spot Joshua in the window of the den. My eyes remain locked on his until I can’t see him anymore.

  “He’ll be here when we get back, Madison.”

  My head snaps to Grandma as her words register. “Really?”

  “I wanted to tell you before we left, but I couldn’t. His mother needs to be the one to explain everything to him right now. It’s going to be a big change for the both of them. By the time we get back, they’ll be settled into their new life. I need for you to understand something, though.” She has my undivided attention, but pauses, taking a deep breath before she continues. “His name will no longer be Joshua. You can’t call him that anymore. This will be an adjustment for you, too.”

  When Grandma glances in my direction, I nod my head letting her know that I understand what she’s trying to tell me. We ride in silence the rest of the way to the beach. I focus on all the things I want to show him in New Bern when I return. I’ll only have a few days before my father comes to pick me up. Joshua and I … Wait. He won’t be Joshua anymore.

  “Grandma, can I ask you a question?”

  “What’s on your mind, sweetie?”

  “What will his name be when we get back?”

  “I believe his mother decided on Grant. Grant Fisher.”

  Chapter 17

  After spending another amazing weekend with me, Grant has to head home for dinner with his mom on Sunday night. The only problem is that his truck won’t start. Nervous about seeing Lucy, my palms begin to sweat the closer and closer we get to Grant’s house. Pulling in the driveway, my heart starts to race. I’m about to have a full-on panic attack when Lucy appears on the front porch, waving excitedly at us.

  “You should come in and have dinner with us,” Grant suggests, pulling my hand from the steering wheel and squeezing it in support.

  “What?” I’m staring at Lucy, unable to look away. Her smile looks genuine, but it can’t be. She has to hate me a little. I’ve been sleeping with her son, and I’m sure she knows it.

  “My mom has been giving me shit for not inviting you over for dinner. I didn’t think you would want to come, but now that you’re here …” He lets his voice trail off as he waits for me to make a decision.

  “Um.”

  “Madison,” he says, pulling my attention away from his mother. “She likes you, I promise. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “But you’ve been sleeping over, and she has to know—”

  “She does know,” he cuts me off. “I tell her everything. As long as we’re careful, she doesn’t care. She knows how much I love you, Madison. She’s happy for us.”

  My eyes focus on Lucy again, her smile still firmly in place as she rubs her hands up and down her arms. There’s a chill in the air tonight.

  Reaching over and turning the key, Grant shuts the car off and gets out. Popping his head back in the open door, he says, “If you want these back, you’ll have to let us feed you.” My keys are dangling from his finger tip. I try to snag them, but he pulls his hand out of reach and shuts the door.

  I’m left with no other option than to suck it up and go inside. I watch as Grant pulls Lucy in for a hug and kisses her on the cheek when he reaches the porch. I can see that he towers over her by at least six inches as they stand next to each other, both waiting on me to get out of the car.

  As soon as I reach the porch, Lucy wraps her arms around me, squeezing me tight. I’m not used to this kind of affection from a parent and it warms me on the inside. It’s been a long time since I was hugged by anyone other than Grant or Libby. Grandma’s been gone for a few months now, and I didn’t realize how much I missed the feeling of being loved.

  “I’m glad you’re staying.” The hug combined with the sincerity in Lucy’s voice almost brings me to tears.

  “Me too,” I say as she pulls away, Grant snagging me by the hand and pulling me inside.

  Their house is small, but cute. After a quick tour, Grant and I disappear into his room while Lucy finishes cooking dinner. His walls are covered in black and white photos of him and his mother, posters of NFL football players, mainly quarterbacks, and a signed poster from a country band that I’ve never heard of. He watches me as I walk around, running my fingers over everything, getting a glimpse into his life. When I reach his dresser, I’m shocked to find a framed photo of me that I don’t remembe
r being taken.

  “Where did you get this?” Picking up the picture, I stare at a much younger version of myself in awe.

  “You’re Grandma gave it to me.”

  “When?” I’m sitting in the sand, staring at the sunset, lost in thought. I wonder what I was thinking about.

  “After the accident, before you woke up, I asked to see you, and she thought it was a bad idea since your father was on his way. She didn’t want to have to explain to him who I was, so she gave me that picture.”

  “I don’t even remember taking it,” I confess, wishing I remembered more about the time I spent with Grandma at the beach that summer.

  “She said you looked peaceful staring at the ocean, so she snapped the photo. I kept hoping that I’d get to see that look on your face again. No one knew how bad your injuries were when she gave it to me.” His voice tightens, and I hear both the concern and uncertainty he must have felt in each word he speaks.

  Staring at the picture, I try to remember that moment. Things are slowly starting to come back to me, but this moment, captured by my grandma, is still hidden in the shadows. I’m getting there, remembering little by little. I’m afraid of what’s still to come. The vacation. The accident. The aftermath.

  Dinner with Lucy is pleasant. I expected it to be awkward or tense, but it’s not. We have a great conversation about the upcoming playoff game this Friday. Lucy asks if I want to ride to the game together since it’s an hour away. Looking to Grant for permission, he looks happy about the idea, so I agree, setting my fears aside that I’ll be trapped in a car with her alone.

  ***

  As I’m about to leave for class Tuesday morning, there’s a man standing outside my door. I’m startled when I open it, letting out a gasp. His hand is raised as if he was about to knock.

  “I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was looking for someone.”

  His face looks familiar, but I can’t figure out why. “Who?”

  “Grant Fisher.” Grant? Why would they he be looking for Grant here? “I saw his truck out front and I thought he might be here. You’re his girlfriend, right?”