Free Getting Lucky (The Marilyns) by Katie Graykowski Page B

this glowing, boyish smile that had crept up on his face when he was around children. Around his own, it must have been dazzling.
    “I would have loved to see you with him.”
    “Why don’t you look at the picture albums?” Dawnie said as she stretched. “Uncle Will has them.”
    Maybe she’d ask to see them. Perhaps tomorrow … if she worked up the nerve. She wanted to see Ricky and didn’t. Perhaps it was like ripping a Band-Aid off—once she’d seen the pictures, then she could heal.
    Ricky as a father—it was still a shock.
    They stared into the fire in companionable silence.
    “Can I call you Wow?” Clearly the little girl had moved on.
    “Um, okay.” Lucky had no idea what a Wow was. “Why?”
    Dawnie wriggled around and touched Lucky’s jaw. “Because it’s Mom upside down. I want you to be my mom upside down.”
    Her battered and bruised soul shook off some of the darkness, and a blinding, beautiful love took root. It was a mother’s love—all-consuming and eternal. She would love, protect, and worship this little one forever.
    She was a mom upside down.
    “Oh.” Tears burned the inside of her nose and then rolled, warm and plentiful, down her cheeks. She nodded and choked out, “I would love to be your Wow.”
    This beautiful little girl was so hungry for love, and Lucky was hungry to give it.
    All those years of trying to be a mother and now she was one—upside down. It was wonderful and astonishing and surreal.
    “Why are you crying?” Dawnie sounded more interested than concerned.
    “I … um…” She swiped at her cheeks. “I’ve always wanted to be a … um … Wow.”
    “Tomorrow, I’m gonna tell Vivi and Mandy to call you Wow too. That way you’ll be a Wow all the time.” She turned back around and laced her fingers through Lucky’s. “I wanna try out for the Thanksgiving play at school. Think you could help me? I want to be the narragator, and there’s lots of lines.”
    “Do you mean narrator?” Lucky kissed the top of the little girl’s head and felt completely comfortable doing it. “I’d love to.”
    Dawnie bounced and clapped and then yawned. She snuggled into Lucky and rested her head against Lucky’s chest. “I like staring into the fire. It’s kinda nice. It’s a whole bunch of different colors. I didn’t know fire had so many colors.”
    She yawned again, and her eyelids drooped.
    Lucky should put her to bed, but the weight of a drowsy child in her lap filled her with a love that she hadn’t thought possible. She was now a Wow, and that was more than she’d ever hoped to be.
    Dawnie’s breathing turned slow and steady like the soft purr of a contented kitten. The firelight danced and then blurred as Lucky finally allowed the grief and humiliation she’d bottled up to bubble to the surface. The tears came faster and harder. She wept into a soft cap of blonde ringlets that smelled like Johnson’s Baby Shampoo. With each sob, the pieces of Lucky’s broken heart mended, and the years of neglect, disappointment, anger, and hatred began to fade into the distant past.

 
     
     
Chapter 8
     
     
    Lucky had missed her cars. The next morning, she flipped the light switch, and a contagion of fluorescent lights hummed to life. It had been a long forty-eight hours, and she could use some alone time.
    The cars were her babies. The only children she’d thought to ever have … but now she was a Wow. To date, that was her greatest accomplishment.
    Seven garage bays—each holding a different muscle car—this was her world … her place. As she walked through the long, skinny detached garage, she touched each car lovingly. A waxy shine reflected light off red, black, white, green, and blue paint. Pearl, a ’64 Plymouth Fury, sat between Charlene, a ’66 Corvette, and Shauna, a ’67 Chevelle. Bebe, a ’74 Barracuda, looked showroom-ready, and Lisa, a ’65 Malibu SS, all but dared her to rev the engine. She patted Stevie Nicks lightly on the hood. But her