My Lucky Days: A Novel

by S. D. Hendrickson

So I bought several cans of paint and decided to redecorate our little house. Skylar helped with the colors since she was better at that sort of thing. We spent the first week of March covered in about fifty different shades of gray, which sent Peyton into high-pitched giggles at the ironic aspect of my adventure. That only put ideas in her head. She sat on a paint drop cloth, dramatically reading excerpts from the book instead of helping us finish the living room.

  The renovations were a good idea. I was exhausted from teaching school and then after work, I reached another level of physical exertion from sanding baseboards. I usually fell asleep without even trying.

  One night, at about two in the morning, I woke to my phone actually ringing and not a text. I pulled myself out of a groggy sleep, seeing his name on the screen.

  “Hey,” I mumbled.

  “I’m so sorry, Katie. But I had to call you. I couldn’t wait.”

  I sat up in bed as my mind fell into jumbled thoughts of accidents and destruction. “What’s wrong?”

  “Jack Harlow was at our show tonight.”

  “Don’t do that. I thought. Never mind.” My heart was racing.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I was excited and I wanted to tell you.”

  “It’s okay.” I let out a deep breath and leaned back against my pillow. “So Jack Harlow? Really? Why was he there?”

  “He’s playing in town tomorrow night.”

  Jack Harlow wasn’t exactly A-list, but he was still pretty well known for being a country rebel, which made him more elusive. And he was one of Lucky’s favorites.

  “Where are you? I can’t remember.”

  “Atlanta. But Jack has a show here tomorrow. Just across the street actually. He decided to have a drink and ended up watching my set. Then he came backstage afterward. He was . . . I don’t know. Shit. He’s like one of the best guitar players out there right now. And he liked what he saw. And wanted to let me know.”

  “Seriously?” I squealed, and then I covered my lips with my hand, taking it down to a whisper. “Seriously? He said that?”

  “Yes. Actually he said, ‘You fuckin’ killed it, man. Just fuckin’ killed it.’”

  I almost squealed again. “So did you, like, hang out with him?”

  “Yes. We talked for a little while. He said I should look him up when I’m back in Nashville. Maybe we could work on something together. He gave me his phone number.”

  “You’re like a fangirl. Getting Jack Harlow’s number.” I laughed.

  “Damn straight.”

  “That’s incredible. I’m so happy for you.” Lucky was chasing his dream and tonight, his dream crossed into another level of reality. I was proud of him.

  I didn’t care if I was dragging ass tomorrow. I talked to Lucky until almost five in the morning. It was one of the best conversations we had since his trip in February.

  And toward the end of the call, Lucky got a little quiet. “You know I love you, right?”

  “I know,” I whispered.

  “Roger’s got us more dates through the summer. So I won’t be coming back for a break.”

  “I see.” The dread hit me. In the back of my mind, I guess I had imagined him coming back to stay when I graduated. But that was the fictional tale I told myself when I went to bed so I could sleep better.

  “I don’t know what’s happening yet. But maybe you could come with me this summer.”

  “Like on tour with you?”

  “Yeah,” he whispered. “Run away with me, Katie.”

  “Run away with you?”

  “Yeah, for real this time. It’ll be cramped. But I think it would work. And we could be together. Say you’ll do it.”

  My eyes wandered around my familiar curtains and pictures on the wall. My hand ran over my fluffy comforter. Waking up in a new place every day was not my idea of living. And I often wondered if he even knew what skyline or tree line he saw every morning. I assumed they faded into the never-ending blur of the city lights.

  Colt was right when he said Lucky had chosen a life that was very different than his. I had also fallen for someone who lived a life that was very different from mine.

  “You still there?”

  “Yeah,” I whispered.

  “Just say you’ll think about it.”

  I let out a deep breath. Everything would be changing in my life when May arrived and I graduated. I wasn’t ready for any of those changes. But at least I could spend time with him. “I’ll come with you.”

  “You sure?” I felt his excitement through the phone.

  “Yeah, I miss you too much to say no.”

  There are moments you remember in life. Moments scratched into your soul with the ink of a tattoo that will never fade away—moments that can’t be removed by scrubbing or cleaning. When I woke up this morning, I didn’t know I would be having one of those moments until later.

  Not until I saw a single photograph.

  And then my world changed. The wind shifted, bringing this fairytale reality to a sudden halt as the last few months flashed before my eyes. Every single laugh and kiss. Every single text and I love you.

  My phone rang again. It was the third time he had called in the last hour. And the third time I had let it go to voicemail. I couldn’t talk to him. Everything was a complete mess, and I wasn’t sure how to even process the spiraling thoughts.

  I stared at the picture again as I sat on my bed. This wasn’t happening. I had believed him. Have fun with me, Katie. His words had echoed in my head all afternoon. And now, that sweet and innocent dream had come to an end with one photo. One picture that made me question my future with him. I didn’t want to believe it was true.

  But pictures don’t lie.

  I tossed the black and white image on my dresser. Getting out my candles, I lit the entire box and climbed under the covers. Part of me wanted to burn that picture. Maybe seeing it go up in a cloud of smoke would make the truth disappear. But deep down, my heart would still know.

  I thought I had experienced every level of loneliness in my life. But tonight proved me wrong. I had never felt this gut-wrenching sadness and fear while being entirely alone.

  Part of me wanted to call Lucky back. Tell him about seeing that picture. How it made me feel. But I didn’t know the words. And it would make the contents of that picture feel even more real if we actually talked about it. A soft knock tapped on my door before it opened slowly. “Katie?”

  “Yeah,” I muttered.

  Peyton came inside, looking at my candles and then to where I was buried under my covers. “You okay? Luck texted. Said you aren’t taking his phone calls. He’s worried about you.”

  “I know. I just . . . I can’t talk to him right now.”

  Peyton glanced over to the nightstand, picking up the photo. “Holy shit! Is that real?”

  “Well, unless this is a nightmare dream sequence. Then yes. That’s real.”

  “Oh, Katie . . .” My roommate’s voice registered a mix of shock and sadness as her fingers ran over the grainy picture. “How did this happen?”

  “I had sex with Lucky. And that’s . . . I’m . . . well . . . I’m—”

  “Pregnant,” she finished the sentence for me.

  “Yes,” I whispered. “I’m . . .”

  Pregnant. I hadn’t even said the word out loud yet to see how it felt on my tongue. How did this happen? I felt the question running on a perpetual loop in my mind, much like it did in Peyton’s. I rolled over onto my back, staring up at the ceiling.

  My roommate crawled onto the bed next to me. She pulled the fluffy comforter up around us. “Did you just figure this out today?”

  “Yes. I thought I was sick again from the kids at school. And I wasn’t getting better so I went to the health center when I got off work.”

  She peered at the sonogram photo again. Her freckles bunched up on her cheeks as she squinted at the image. “I can’t see much in this. You sure it’s real?”

  “The blood work doesn’t li
e. Plus, I forced them to do an ultrasound.”

  “Does he know yet?”

  I shook my head against the pillow. “I don’t know what to think. I’ve been trying to . . . I don’t know. I don’t even know what to tell him or how to tell him. And it should be in person, and right now I can’t even remember what city he’s in. I can’t do this.” The panic started itching under my skin. “I can’t just call him.”

  “Then don’t. I hate this teaching stuff. We could just leave. I’d go with you. Like Thelma and Louise.” Her face took on a whimsical glow in the candlelight. “Run away. Rob banks for cash. Find Brad Pitt. Tie him to a chair. And do bad things to him.”

  “You do realize the baby would still be with me? I can’t run away from something that is living inside of me.”

  “So that means you want to keep it?”

  “Peyton . . .” I let out a deep breath. “I wouldn’t . . . I mean, that’s not what I’m even contemplating. You know I love kids. And I would eventually maybe want one with Lucky after some careful planning. And after I was finished with school. And I had taught a few years. And his career was more stable. And we were married and had a house.”

  “And a white picket fence with a tree in the front yard and a dog named Fred.” Peyton smiled.

  “Don’t make fun of me. Not about this. You have to be serious.”

  “I’m being serious.”

  “Well, my idea of serious is trying to figure out if I can still get a school to hire me this fall and how much food a baby eats. And if I need a different car because my backseat is tiny. And if Lucky . . . and if Lucky . . . and if he . . . I just really need to know how much a baby eats.”

  “You just need to breathe a little bit.” Peyton circled her arms around me, resting her head against my shoulder. “I know how you get about stuff. And this has thrown a huge wrench in your schedule. But maybe the best things in life aren’t planned. You don’t need all of those things just to have a baby.”

  “I just . . .” I grasped at the words. “I just don’t want to be my parents. They never should have had a kid. I’m pretty sure I was not planned, but they decided to make it work. That’s the thing though. It didn’t work. Not at all.”

  “Your parents chose to have you and ignore you. Mine had six of us. My sister Micah was born when they were eighteen. They didn’t have money back then. Hell, they don’t have any money now. My family might be a little, well, chaotic at times, but they have always been present in my life. And I turned out just fine.”

  I laughed. “I don’t think you’re a good selling point.”

  “Okay, well, they aren’t the strictest. But that’s not the point I’m trying to make. My parents didn’t have a plan and my dad worked a lot. But I always knew they loved me. That’s what is important.”

  “I guess,” I whispered.

  “Which is why you need to tell Lucky.” She smiled. “You need to talk to him. Right now, you are living in your own head—all alone. You can’t do that anymore, Katie. You have to tell him. And let Lucky worry about this too. This is his fault, you know.”

  “It’s not his fault over mine. If you have sex, everyone knows it’s a possibility even with protection. The odds just get a little less. Which still doesn’t add up. If I look at the odds. You slept with how many guys? And I’m the one who ends up pregnant.”

  She laughed. “That’s because you love him. Babies are more likely to grow when there’s love.”

  “That is not true, Peyton.”

  “Maybe. But doesn’t it make you feel better to think of it that way?” She crawled out from underneath the covers and tossed my phone at me. “Call him. He needs to be involved in your meltdown. If you need a plan to feel better, then make one with him.”

  “Okay. I know you’re right. I just don’t know how to even start a conversation like this.”

  “How about, ‘I’m pregnant, Lucky. Surprise! Your dick is the father.’”

  “Peyton. Be serious.”

  “Okay, fine. ‘I went to the doctor today. I’m pregnant and scared and don’t know what to do.’ He’ll come back here and save the day.”

  I closed my eyes, feeling the dull pain in my head. “How exactly is he going to save the day?”

  “I don’t know. Just tell him and find out. And then come talk to me once it’s done.” She walked to the door and looked back over her shoulder. “But honestly, you could do this without him. If anyone’s got this, it would be you. I mean, you already take care of me. A baby should be a piece of cake.” She winked before shutting the door.

  Her words made me smile. Maybe there was just a little bit of truth in them. Lying in bed, I let my hand drift over my stomach. My body didn’t feel different from the outside. Not even when I ran my fingers over my bare skin. It was the same soft flesh as always. But everything underneath was different—changing cell by cell. And part of those cells had come from Lucky. A little piece of him was growing inside me.

  I didn’t know which exact time created this baby. But I knew the day. His twenty-four-hour spontaneous trip here in February. He had smelled like leather and kissed me like I was the last girl on the planet. I think we had sex four times before he left. And one of those times must have been pretty damn magical.

  Looking at my phone, I saw the list of texts and missed calls from him. This conversation would never be easy. Nor should it wait any longer. I clicked his name, listening to the phone ring against my ear. The fear rolled through my chest again. I was so scared. A tear fell down my cheek.

  “Katie? Where are you? I’ve been trying to call you all day.”

  I let out a deep breath, trying to steady my voice. “I’m okay.”

  “You don’t sound okay.”

  “I um . . .” I couldn’t say anything else. I was about to change his world. And I wasn’t sure why that bothered me. But for a few more seconds, he didn’t know. My life was a complete mess, but his was still full of beautiful dreams.

  “Talk to me.” His voice was soft with a slight catch, and I knew he was worried.

  “I don’t know how,” I whispered. The tears were falling down faster than I could think.

  “You can tell me anything. I promise.”

  I closed my eyes and willed the words to come out. “I’m pregnant.”

  I counted the still breaths. I counted to five before his voice came back through the phone. “It’s going to be okay. I um . . . I don’t want you to be scared, Katie. It’s going to be okay.”

  “I-I don’t . . .” The tears came in the ugly kind. I tried to talk as the snot dripped down my nose. “I-I don’t know . . . you’re not. I don’t know how . . . here.”

  “Hey, don’t cry. You got me. I’m not going anywhere.”

  I sniffled again. “I’m alone. I feel alone. I can’t—”

  “I’m so sorry, Katie. I know. I wish—” His voice caught again. I heard it. Lucky was trying not to cry, and that made even more tears fall down my cheeks. “I love you. You know I love you. And I wish I could hold you right now. Kiss you. Tell you it’s going to be okay. I know I’m not with you. But I’m here. And it’s okay.”

  “You really think it will be?” I wished I could see his face. I wanted to look into his eyes as he said those words. To feel his arms around me.

  “I know it will be.” His breaths were labored through the phone. Sporadic and uneven. I think he was pacing the floor. I imagined his feet moving swiftly across the carpet as he tugged on his hair. “Have you . . . have you been to the doctor yet?”

  “Yeah,” I whispered.

  “And everything is okay? I mean. I don’t know how this works exactly.”

  I laughed as I sniffled. “Me either.”

  “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

  And for the first time since the doctor sent my world spiraling, I felt just a little bit better. I reached over and picked up the photograph. It was grainy, and I couldn’t make out much of anything. But I knew what was hidden in the black and wh
ite image. “Hold on. I’ll send you something.”

  Taking my phone, I lined up the screen and snapped a picture. I texted it to Lucky and waited for it to show up in his messages. I seemed to be counting my breaths tonight. And I counted again as I waited to hear him on the other side.

  I heard a deep gasp. Maybe this hadn’t seemed real to him yet either. But that photo wasn’t something you could look away from and not see the truth.

  “Is that our baby?” he whispered.

  And hearing him say those words made the chaos in my head shift again. Our baby. I would forever be linked to this guy. Forever linked by what was in that photograph. “Yeah, that’s . . . that’s our baby.”

  “I—” His voice was gruff. “I can’t really see it. Shit. I’m supposed to be able to see something, right?”

  I sniffled. “It’s okay. I can’t either.”

  And then we both were laughing. I let out a deep breath as we grew quiet again. “Lucky, tell me it’s going to be okay.”

  “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered. “I love you. Do you still love me?”

  “Yes.” Silent tears fell down my cheeks. I knew he meant it. I wasn’t in this alone. Not that I ever thought he would bail on me. But I knew it. I felt it from him. “I love you too.”

  “Give me a minute, okay? And I’ll call you right back. I promise.” His voice caught on the last few words. And my heart ached a little.

  “Okay.” I understood. He needed a moment to process this alone, but I didn’t sound very convincing.

  “I promise. I’ll call you right back.”

  “I know you will.”

  We hung up, and I curled up under my covers again. Telling Lucky made things a little better and a little worse. For one, it felt more real and I had someone else to worry with me. But I also had someone else to worry about. What was he thinking? What was he doing?

  The clash of fear and nausea caught me. And suddenly the lavender candles turned to a sickening sweet scent. I got up and blew them all out. The room was dark, and I looked out the window. I placed my hand against the cool glass, leaving a handprint and then quickly grabbing a tissue, wiping it off.

  I’m not sure how much time passed before he called me back. I picked up my phone without paying attention to the screen.