Lucky 13 Read Free Page A

think we’ll ever see each other again?” I can hear the hope in his words.
    “I hope so,” I reply.
    “I’ll find you, Madison. It may take me another thirteen years, but I will find you.” The conviction in his words sends a shiver down my spine.
    “I’ll be waiting.” The same hope I heard in his voice is now in mine. I want to promise him we’ll find each other again, but I don’t, knowing some things in life are not possible, no matter how much hope you hold.
     
     

 
     
     
     
    Chapter 1
     
     
    There’s black all around me. Dresses. Suits. Hats. There’s even one lady with a black veil hiding her face, her black handkerchief held tightly by her black gloved hand. Not an inch of her skin is showing.
    Then there’s me.
    I’m wearing plum and gray, and standing out amongst the crowd.
    It wasn’t planned that way. I grabbed the first two dark colors I had in my bag and threw the outfit together. The plum of my blouse is almost dark enough in the soft lighting to look like it’s black—until I stand next to someone who’s actually wearing black. My gray pencil skirt is what really makes me stand out. Or it could be the black flats against my bare, porcelain white legs.
    I could have gone shopping for something more “appropriate,” but I knew my grandmother wouldn’t care what I was wearing. In fact, she would be proud of me for going against the grain. She was my biggest cheerleader in life, and I’m going to miss the hell out of her. My heart is heavy. Heavier than is was when my mother died.
    This trip wasn’t planned. I came home from the library to a bag had already been packed, and my father impatiently waiting for me in our living room. He told me my grandmother was sick and that we needed to visit. He didn’t have to tell me that it was urgent. The bags sitting by the door was a clear sign.
    I had spoken to Grandma a few days earlier and she sounded good. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to be concerned about. We talked for over an hour, planning my trip to visit that was supposed to happen next month—the same week every summer. We always made big plans and followed through on none of them. Trips to the ocean would turn into trips to the ice cream store. No matter what we did, though, we always had fun because we were together.
    This visit was going to be different. We planned to go on a road trip. Grandma wanted to help me look at colleges—something that my father wasn’t interested in doing. She wanted to make sure that I had options. Almost every college in North Carolina was on our itinerary. She wanted me to be closer to her in case I needed anything.
    That’s what I loved most about Grandma. Her life wasn’t about her or her own happiness. She was focused on the safety and happiness of others all the time. She did whatever she could to ensure everyone around her had a great life. If everyone around her was happy, she was happy. For her, it was the little things, like having me attend school in the same state as her, instead of in California where my father and I currently lived.
    Hearing my father clear his throat, I redirect my attention to the front of the church. My father’s not wearing black either. He’s dressed to the nines in his military dress blues, every medal and ribbon he’s earned worn proudly over the left breast of his coat. I sat in the living room with him last night and listened to him practice his eulogy while he tediously sewed each piece on—I had no idea my father could even thread a needle.
    “Good Morning, everyone. Thank you all for coming. My mother would be in awe right now at the sheer number of people who’ve come out to celebrate her life today.”
    He pauses a moment and looks down to the piece of paper sitting on the podium. I’m not sure why, dramatic effect maybe, since he knows the entire speech by heart.
    “My mother was a loving woman. If you met her, you would know this. She went out of her way to take care of others. It