My Lucky Days: A Novel

by S. D. Hendrickson

  I heard the distant sound of guitar music coming from somewhere in the half-constructed house. I went through the large, wooden double doors that served as a formal entrance. I smiled, seeing the amazing staircase leading to the second floor. I knew the hand-carved wooden banister was the work of none other than Colt Evans.

  The music got louder toward the back of the house. The walls were still mostly boards. As I reached the end of the hallway, a door led to a cement patio and a deep hole in the ground, which I assumed was the beginning of a swimming pool.

  The guitar music suddenly stopped. And I saw Lucky, sitting on the other side of the hole in front of the finished pool house.

  His eyes met mine in surprise. I stood there a second, not sure what to say. I gave him a nervous smile as he set the guitar down in the case. Picking up a beer bottle from the ground, he leaned back in the chair, taking a drink as he watched me. His hair was slicked back like he had just taken a shower.

  As I walked closer, I felt incredibly nervous. And I shouldn’t be. But I was. I knew what I wanted to say to him. And it scared me.

  I stopped a few feet from his chair, feeling his eyes on my legs and then to my breasts before smiling at me. His presence always seemed so large, swallowing up the air and even the sunshine around him.

  Swallowing up me.

  I looked away, trying to regain some composure. “Is he . . . here?”

  “It’s just me,” Lucky finally said. “Mia took Sam to the park while I did some work. I think he’s talked her into a movie. So it’s just us.”

  I met his gaze. “Oh.”

  “I guess you got my message. And you came to . . .” He looked back at me with hopeful eyes.

  “Talk.” I let out a deep breath, clenching and unclenching my fingers. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Okay?” He nodded briefly.

  “Lucky . . .” I hesitated. This was so incredibly hard. Starting over. Starting again. Giving him what he asked of me, when I was afraid. I willed myself not to cry, but there were just so many emotions burning in me.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” He got up from the chair, taking my clenched hand. “Why don’t we go inside? I can get you a drink or something. Show you around.”

  I nodded, feeling the warmth of his fingers as they intertwined with mine. I let him pull me toward the door, but I stopped midstep, seeing something next to my sandals.

  Handprints.

  Tiny little handprints in the cement. My stomach caught for a moment at the simple gesture. He would go running through here, hundreds of times over the years—as a little kid and then later with his high school friends. Yet, those little hands would be frozen in time.

  “He loved doing that.”

  I looked up, seeing the softness in his smile as the emotions played across his face. The words I wanted to say. How did we get here? Stumbling through these pieces.

  He cupped my face in his hands, and I thought for a moment he was going to kiss me. But all I got was the scent of fresh soap and a little beer. “Talk to me, Katie.”

  Sometimes he said things that were like pieces of my memory. And sometimes it was his calming voice that brought back those feelings. “What you’ve asked me to do? It’s life-changing.”

  “I know.” His thumbs moved softly over my cheeks. I couldn’t look away from his pleading eyes. So strong and yet desperate. Almost frantic. “But we can do this. I know we can.”

  I nodded, feeling the tears hovering on my lashes. “I hope so. Because he needs all of us. You know that more than anyone. And he deserves to have a real family. Or at least for us to try to make it real.”

  “We will,” he whispered. “And we can take it slow. A little at a time until we get it all figured out.”

  “Okay.” I nodded, feeling a tear release and fall down my cheek. Lucky kissed my forehead, holding his lips for a moment before letting go. The emotions played out silently between us. I didn’t know where to go from here. And he didn’t either.

  I wiped my eyes quickly with my fingers. “I, well, now what?”

  He shrugged. “You want to come inside? Maybe talk some more? I . . . um . . . maybe I could give you that tour.”

  “Okay.”

  His hand brushed my back, guiding me toward the pool house door. I glanced up a couple of times, making eye contact. “What I saw in the main house. It looked really good.”

  “Colt and I’ve been doing some of the work on the weekends, but he’s got a whole crew during the week.”

  As we stepped inside, I was shocked. This pool house was more elaborate than the last one. “Wow! This is really nice.”

  “It’s a little much. We are going to make the actual house a little less . . .”

  “CMT Cribs?” I smiled.

  He chuckled. “I don’t think they have a show but yes.”

  “Well, they might start one if the main house looks anything like this.” I surveyed the room, taking in each detail from the custom-made fireplace to the elaborate kitchen. “Those cabinets are really beautiful. Well, actually, everything I see in here is beautiful.”

  “Yeah, I think so too.” He didn’t smile as he stared at me. I felt it building, the pull between us. We didn’t talk about us earlier. But there was an us. There always would be. I knew that now, and the pull was alive yet still silent as we walked into the kitchen together.

  As he got the glasses out of the cabinet, I studied the photo on the refrigerator. It was the same one he showed me in the truck. Below the picture, I saw a coloring book page with scribbles mostly outside the black lines. My fingers ran over the waxy green and blue. A terrible image but proudly on display as the only artwork in the whole pool house.

  He was already more of a parent than mine had ever been.

  I watched the backside of Lucky. The way his shoulders moved under the white shirt. The way his jeans clung to the shape of his thighs. He turned around and caught me staring at him.

  I looked away quickly, but I knew he caught me. I met his gaze again as the slow dance continued between us. He smiled back at me. “You want Coke or something else?”

  “Coke’s fine.” I swallowed as his eyes drifted over me briefly. I was still in the flower-print dress I’d worn to school. “I’m going to run to the restroom. Is it down the hall?”

  “Yeah. It’s the door in the middle.”

  I took my shoes off to keep from tracking dirt across the shiny hardwood floors. In the bathroom, I studied my reflection. My mascara was smudged around my eyes from the tears that fell earlier. Taking some toilet paper, I cleaned up my face. I felt better. As I left, I caught a glimpse of the bedroom next door. I found myself walking inside.

  The walls were covered in race cars that matched the comforter. In the corner, toy trucks were tossed in a pile. A little table was by the window with several containers of Play-Doh sitting in the center. I picked one up, twisting the plastic lid off. The green and blue were mashed inside the same one. For some reason, that made me smile.

  “He really seems to like that stuff.”

  I jumped, hearing Lucky’s voice behind me. I put the container back down as he watched me. “You did good in here.”

  “I’m learning, I guess.”

  I joined him over at the door. “Well, it’s a nice room.”

  “I’m trying. You can do stuff or bring stuff . . . here.” Our eyes locked as the heavy words hung in the air. “Whenever you want.”

  I felt his hand touch mine. His smile softened, and he gave me that look. The one that got me in the heart.

  “Do you ever think about her?” I whispered.

  His face scrunched up, making a crease form between his dark eyes. As he stared at me, I saw the conflicted emotions weighing on his thoughts. The question might have slipped out in the moment. But I had wondered. Not just today. Not since he had come back into my life.

  I had wondered that question every time I thought about her. The child we almost had. Did he ever think about her too?

 
; His fingers left mine and moved to his shirt. I wasn’t sure what he was doing. But he slowly pulled it over his head, revealing a little more skin until it was gone.

  And then I saw it. The feathers in shades of blue creating wings on his chest. To most, it would have been just another piece of art.

  But I knew.

  I stared at the ink until something else came through like one of those image puzzles.

  Katie. My name was combined in the feathers over his heart.

  “All the time,” he whispered. “Every day. Every night. You were both always with me.”

  My finger traced the lines, and then I placed my whole palm against the design, feeling his warm skin. My thoughts raced to process what I was touching. The feeling started as a slow burn in my heart that spread to a tingle on my lips. Slow and fast. Quick and deep.

  I wanted to kiss him.

  I needed to kiss him.

  I don’t know who moved first. Me or him. My fingers dug into his bare shoulders. His hands were in my hair. And we were kissing, lips grinding and pulling against each other as my legs went around his waist.

  I couldn’t kiss him hard enough.

  I couldn’t get close enough.

  It was nothing but mouths and tongues and hands gripping skin. I didn’t remember going into his room. But I felt him placing me against the soft bedspread.

  His lips left mine long enough to pull my dress over my head. And for a split second, reality tried to crash through my thoughts. I didn’t look the same. Time had left me softer and with some definite curves. But Lucky just grinned while cupping my breasts in his hands. “I thought these looked bigger.”

  I laughed as his mouth crashed back against mine, and it was like we had never stopped. My bra was gone. His pants were tossed to the side. I don’t remember him even taking my blue panties off as we rolled across the bed. I was on top of him. And then he was over me.

  My body came alive, remembering the way his mouth felt. The way his hands touched. And then a sound escaped my lips as I felt him inside of me, as I felt us together.

  It was beautiful and crazy.

  Wild and frantic.

  My eyes struggled to stay open as my nails dug into his skin. Everything was moving like a blur, yet nothing felt fast enough. I’d missed the way he made my thoughts shift in brilliant colors, like spiraling around in a rollercoaster across a beautiful beach.

  I couldn’t fight it anymore.

  My eyes closed.

  I held him tight.

  And for the first time, in a really long time.

  My soul felt alive again.

  The air conditioner kicked on, making a slight noise. I felt his hand running under the covers over my skin. He was smiling at me. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  My foot shifted against his leg. “Like what?”

  “Well, you wanted us to get to know each other again. So tell me something. Then I’ll tell you something.”

  “Maybe we should ask questions instead,” I said, tracing a finger over his cheek and down to his lips. He kissed the tip.

  “Okay. Ask me something.”

  “Anything?”

  He nodded. “But I’m gonna be honest. So you might keep that in mind.”

  “Well . . .” I had a lot of questions I wanted to ask, but maybe he was right. Some things shouldn’t be shared. It would hurt worse to actually know. So I went another direction. “What’s the craziest thing you’ve bought?”

  “Like, expensive celebrity bullshit?”

  I laughed. “Yes. Not houses or necessity stuff because I know you have a plane.”

  “How do you know that?” His lips brushed my forehead. He couldn’t stop kissing me. And I didn’t want him to.

  “That’s not important. So I want to know. You win an award? Do you reward yourself with eccentric purchases?”

  “Honestly. No. But, let’s see. I own a few classic guitars played by the actual artists. Keith Whitley. Carl Perkins. And some others. I’ve got a really nice boat that I’ve never had time to use. I got that after the duo with Jack Harlow went number one. But I think what you’re after is the fifty-thousand-dollar pair of boots.”

  “Whoa. Those cost more than my car. Or three of my cars.” I laughed as I lightly pushed his shoulder. “I knew those brown ones looked expensive. But aren’t you afraid to wear them? Get them dirty. Someone might just take them. Maybe not here. But—”

  “I don’t wear them.” He cut me off with a grin. “And I’ve actually got two different pairs. They each cost that much.”

  “What do you do? Look at them? Hold them while you watch television? That’s plain crazy.”

  “I’ve missed this with you.” He leaned in and kissed me softly as his fingers threaded through my hair. He pulled back, smiling at me. “One is a pair worn by Johnny Cash. He signed the bottom. The other is actually signed by all The Highwaymen. And a few others. I got them at a charity auction. The proceeds bought musical instruments for schools.”

  “Oh, that was very nice of you,” I whispered.

  “I’ve got more stuff. But enough about me.” He kissed me again, longer this time. “Your turn.”

  “Okay?”

  “Who’s Katie now?”

  “That’s not exactly a question.”

  “Yes, it is. What do you do for fun and do you like being a teacher?” His lips got closer to my ear. “And what do you think about as you fall asleep?”

  “Well, for starters. That was three questions.”

  “Just pick one.”

  “Okay.” My fingers ran over his cheeks. “I do like being a teacher. Most days I think they like me, and my test scores are some of the highest in the district. So I guess I’m pretty good at it. For fun, I make pottery.”

  “Like the whole spinning table, messy hands stuff?”

  I laughed. “Yes. But I don’t have the equipment. My friend Hannah does. So I use hers. I used to go to a studio in town before that.”

  “Do you want a studio?” His eyes were bright with excitement. “I could put one in the house. There’s space.”

  “I’m sure there’s room for like five of them in that thing,” I teased. “Maybe the answer to my first question should have been your new house.”

  “It’s not just my house. I’m putting in a practice room. And I’m building an entire recording studio. I’ll be able to do everything here without being in Nashville. I’ll make people come to me if I want.”

  “I didn’t know you could do that.”

  “Told you. I can do a lot of things different now.” He kissed my forehead, running his nose down mine until our eyes met. “Could you see yourself here?”

  “Living here?” I whispered. “With you?”

  “Yeah.”

  I felt my heart beating faster as we looked at each other. “Maybe. Just not yet.”

  “Well, the house isn’t finished. So unless you like the feel of hot concrete in the summer heat, I wouldn’t move in there yet.” He grinned.

  I rolled my eyes. And then we were kissing again. Lips soft against each other. Tongues touching briefly. I think we both felt the same right now. They were kisses of need. And kisses of reassurance. He was really here. And I was really here.

  As he pulled back, I ran my hands over his chest. And I saw the other tattoo on his inner arm again. The world is bigger than you.

  And I knew my next question. It was a hard one, and the answer might hurt pretty deep.

  “Lucky,” I whispered, staring into his eyes. “Was it true? That song?”

  I didn’t say which one. I didn’t have to. I saw the emotions ripple through him—pain and sadness. “Sometimes.”

  My heart squeezed hearing that single word. It was the question I had wanted to ask him since the first time I heard Coffee and Cocaine. Deep down, I had known it was true. I had felt it in his voice as he sang the words. But part of me had hoped I was wrong.

  “But not in a while.” He chewed on his lip a second as his e
yes creased in thought. “Hard to think about it now. You know, after finding out about who I really am. Where I’m really from.”

  “How did it happen?” My fingers went over his cheek again.

  “I . . . well. Jack Harlow is not a good person. Not that I’m using him as an excuse. My actions are my actions alone. But I got exposed to a lot of shit all at once. A record label. And recording contract. Being out with him. It was exciting. And at the same time, I wasn’t at a good place in my life or in my head. The perfect storm, I guess.”

  I had worried about him. And as it turns out, I had been right to worry. And suddenly my heart hurt and I felt a little sick. “I’m sorry that happened, Lucky. I should have . . . it’s my fault. Isn’t it? For sending you away . . . I mean. Maybe if—”

  I felt his finger against my lips. “It’s okay. Don’t go there. That wasn’t your problem or your fault. It was mine and mine alone. That’s how this works. I’m not trying to put blame or guilt on you. We all handle things differently. And I handled my shit the wrong way those first few years. But I’m okay now.”

  “Really?” I breathed the word.

  He nodded as his lips whispered against mine. “I promise.”

  I was kissing him. He was kissing me. My hands were running over his shoulders. He pulled me flush against his chest before rolling me onto my back. Lucky kissed down my neck. His lips were on my breast, teasing my nipple. My head fell back as my eyes closed. And he was inside of me again. I wrapped my legs around him, holding us body to body, skin to skin.

  “Open your eyes, Katie.”

  And then I saw him. He held my gaze through every move, through every push, through every touch. He watched me with nothing but pure love. I knew because I’d seen it before. And I’d seen it so many times in my memory that I was afraid it was nothing but a figment of what I had wanted it to be.

  But right now. I knew it was real. Everything about us was real.

  “Come for me, Katie,” he whispered. It was so intense. This gripping feeling with him. He moved against me and in me. My thighs tightened around his waist as I held on to him. I moaned into his neck as my mouth hushed the sound against his shoulder. My teeth lightly grazed his skin. He didn’t stop until every piece of me had surrendered to him.