My Lucky Days: A Novel (26 page)

“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 white 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.

“Katie, it’s Callie.”

I closed my eyes. “Hey.”

“Are you okay?”

“I guess he told you.” I hated this. Now other people knew, and it was just getting bigger and bigger, swirling out of control. Not that I would be able to hide it. But I thought for a little bit longer it would just be between us.

“Yeah, he told me. And I asked if I could call you. I hope that’s okay? I figured you were really scared right now. And might need a friend. Someone who knows a little about this.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I-I um . . . thank you. I’m still trying to wrap my head around what’s happening. One minute it doesn’t seem that bad and the next, well . . . I don’t know. Like one big scary black hole that’s eating me.”

“That’s normal. Even I felt that way.”

“Really?” I whispered.

“Yeah. Really. Why don’t you get some rest and maybe we can get together tomorrow. How does that sound? You want to meet me for dinner?”

“Yeah.” The tears fell down my cheeks. “That would be good. I would like that.”

“Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow. We can figure out where to go.”

“Sounds good.”

“Get some rest, Katie.”

“Okay.”

My mind was mush and my body was exhausted. I crawled under the covers just as my phone rang again. I smiled seeing his name on the screen this time.

“Hey,” I whispered.

“Hey,” he whispered back.

And as the empty static across the phone buzzed in my ear, I listened to him breathe. “Go to sleep, Katie. I’ll be right here.”

“Okay.” I closed my eyes, trying to remember what city he was in tonight, but it didn’t matter. I felt Lucky through the phone. And then I heard him, from hundreds of miles away, his voice came with the softness of a caress to my cheek.

If the days feel lonely and the nights get tough,

Just know that I’m thinkin’ of you.

Even when I’m gone,

And the days get rough.

I’ll come back to you.

A promise I will always keep.

So close your eyes,

And think of me as you fall asleep.

’Cause nothin’ has ever felt this right.

Good night, my Katie. Good night.

I
o
nce read a poem by Edgar Allan Poe about being alone. A tragic and oddly strange poem with a beautiful and haunting prose that talked of loss and unhappiness while contemplating why sometimes life is just different for some than others—why they felt different on the inside.

The poem was one of many in a dusty book that smelled of mothballs I had found on my father’s bookshelf. I had read it that time my parents left me alone in Memphis for five days while they went to Vegas.

I remember two things about that long weekend. Poe wrote some twisted words, and I never wanted to be my parents.

Those memories stayed just on the edge of my thoughts as I turned another page on my Kindle. I felt the warmth of the spring breeze, hitting my cheeks.

A burst of laughter came from the two women seated across from me at the school picnic table. I looked up, seeing Vanessa eating her sandwich while looking at something on Sarah’s phone. My gaze drifted over to Mrs. Frazier. Her pursed lips were pressed in a thin line as she pretended not to be staring at our table.

I turned my attention back to my book. Electronics allowed all kinds of secrets these days. I’m sure the women assumed I was caught up in the illicit pages of something Peyton would enjoy. But instead, I had just discovered my baby was the size of a kidney bean.

I smiled while absently resting a hand across my stomach. For something so tiny, that kidney bean was wreaking major havoc on my life and digestive system. I couldn’t keep much of anything down. For the last three days, I had eaten toast for breakfast, crackers for lunch, and toast again for dinner. It wasn’t even the good kind with bacon sandwiched in between the crusty layers.

Bacon. Just the thought of it made my stomach turn. Along with chicken and hamburgers. Mental meat food poisoning. And I guess completely normal according to Callie.

We’d had a good talk. She helped me schedule an appointment with an OB-GYN and recommended some very helpful and graphic reading material.

I wanted a plan and she helped get one started, which eased the initial fear and shock. Well, maybe the shock. I was still worried. But I had months to plan for the baby and as the days passed by, I got a little more comfortable with the idea.

I would get this figured out.
We
would get this figured out.

Lucky was coming in for my official doctor’s appointment. I couldn’t wait to see him. And it was a different kind of feeling now. I wanted to share this with him. Every night when I went to sleep, I thought about how everything was already changing and he wasn’t here to see it.

I smiled as I continued to read my secret book in the middle of the school courtyard. The more I thought about my little kidney bean, the more I wanted my little bean. And that was something important to me. I never wanted our baby not to feel wanted. Not even right now.

“Hey, did they give you a contract yet for next year?” Vanessa asked from across the table, dragging my attention from my book.

I looked up and smiled. “Yeah, I got it yesterday.”

“Oh, good! I’m excited. You’re going to take it, right?” Her pale cheeks were already a little red from the lunchtime sun. I liked Vanessa and the other teachers here. She was about ten years older than me with a couple of kids.

“I think so. I need to talk to the principal about a couple of things before I sign, though.” Like the fact that I would be having a baby. The thought still sent a quick jolt of fear under my skin. But it wasn’t quite as electrifying as it had been last week.

“Girl, you better get that signed before they offer it to someone else.”

“I know.” My phone rang, and I saw Lucky’s name on the screen. “Hold on.”

“It’s her rock star boyfriend again.” Vanessa nudged Sarah with her elbow.

I laughed before I answered. “Hey.”

“Hey, Katie. I know it’s the middle of the day. I just . . . I wanted to call you.”

Getting up from the table, I walked over to the side of the building, away from everyone else and their prying ears. “I’ve got about fifteen minutes left.”

“You feeling any better?”

“Not really.” I leaned back against the brick wall of the building, hearing the kids out on the playground.

“I wish I could make it better.”

I laughed. “If you had the power to make nausea go away, then you might actually be a superhero.”

“You’re funny. And it’s nice to hear you laugh.”

“It’s nice to hear your voice.”

He let out a deep breath. The sound of male voices echoed in the background mixed in with the rugged engine of the old bus. And in the midst of his chaos, I heard the deep longing in his voice. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” I whispered.

“Do you know how much I miss you?”

The brick wall dug into my back as another wave of nausea hit my stomach, but I smiled anyway. “How much?”

“I miss you the way a drunk man misses a bottle of whiskey. Deep in his gut and bones. It’s the first thing he wants when crawling out of bed in the morning. And the only thing that will make him sleep at night. That bottle haunts him. He even sees it in his dreams. And he thinks,
If I can have just a little taste of that whiskey, then I can go on another day
.”

I laughed, rolling my eyes as my heart melted just a little bit more for Lucky. “You should put that in a song.”

“Who says I haven’t?”

M
y fingers twisted around in knots until my knuckles popped, one by one, like little firecrackers in the quiet exam room. Lucky wasn’t going to make it. His connector flight in Dallas had gotten delayed because of the thunderstorms. I had already let them bump two other patients in front of me. The nurse finally said it was now, or I would need to reschedule.

I looked at flowery wallpaper. I guess the light pattern should put a nervous person at ease. But I was a complete wreck. I was alone at my first appointment with the OB-GYN. As if on cue, another clap of thunder rumbled outside the building.

I was sad that he would miss this. My heart ached to see him. So many things had changed since we last saw each other. So many big things, and they would just keep getting bigger.

The doctor came in the room with his nurse. He was an older man with mostly white hair, wearing blue scrubs. I wished Callie had come with me. Dr. Phillips had delivered both Zach and Mia. She absolutely loved the man and said I would too. I told her I would be fine. Lucky would be with me, but now he wasn’t and I had to face this by myself.

“How are you doing, Katie?”

I let out a deep breath, twisting the paper gown up in my fist. “I’m okay.”